


You still feel so alive

by Yuuko_Ichihara



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/M, some Book spoilers, some theories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-10 19:32:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 113,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuuko_Ichihara/pseuds/Yuuko_Ichihara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime and Cersei are dangerous creatures, one day they find a prey that amuses Cersei too much and Jaime promises to play a little with before giving it to her: Brienne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The warrior and the shadow

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of like Dangerous Liasons but a little different. Also it has some elements of Anne Rice's vampires and Let the right one in by John Ajvide Lindqvist (I finally read it).

It was late and she knew she was supposed to be back by now, but training had been very exciting today. She had won them all. Despite her voice, she never told them her name and let them think whatever they wanted. Some of them seemed to think she was just a sullen boy, an awkward child who knew not how to make friends. Brienne did not care to be friends with them. The few times she had been in the company of men like these their only topics of discussion were their sexual fantasies and their negative ideas about women. It was best if they did not know her that well. 

 

She was thrilled that she had defeated all of the competitors. Fencing was her love and the only one she would allow herself to have. Her father had helped her join the academy and she had promised to become the best of them all. “For a big thing you can be quite graceful” one elegant and charming lady that had come to observe the match had said to her, she even winked at Brienne. That had been uncomfortable.

 

Her mare suddenly did not want to continue. “What is it? You know this is our way home” she said sweetly. In a way, she had a better relationship with her horse than with other people. When she looked forward a figure just materialized out of thin air. She gasped and blinked, then it was not there anymore. Blinking repetitively, she looked towards one direction and then the other, yet there was no one. It was obvious she was dreaming or maybe too tired. Looking back then in front again several times she agreed that it was just her imagination, but then, out of nowhere a man was standing in front of her.

 

The man wore a refined hat and a long jacket, beautifully decorated, holding his hat slightly as a way to salute her, he smiled. He was definitely an attractive man but that smile send a thrill down her spine that had nothing to do with girlish desires. 

 

“Excuse me ser” she managed to say “it will be so kind of you to leave the street, it is not very wide and I need to take this road”

 

“Do you?” his voice was beautiful but dangerous at the same time.

 

Brienne was no coward. “In fact I do, but if my lord can not find in himself the kindness to step aside, then I'll find another” and saluting him she turned the horse around.

 

They hadn't gone long when he appeared in front again.

 

It was not achievable, nobody could move at such haste. 

 

“My lord, please, it will be very nice of you to let me pass”

 

“And it will be nice of you to let me kiss you” he said, right next to her ear. How could it be possible? But when she looked he was no longer there. Wide-eyed and scared, she went on her way. It did not took long to arrive at the bridge and then at her father's castle. 

 

Lady Roelle was waiting impatiently at the entrance.

“My lady, this is most inappropriate. The hour, it is already dark, the garments you are wearing, all of it”

 

She sighed but said “I had some distraction, it will not happen again” but she detested being treated like a little girl at 17 years of age.

 

Lady Roelle just looked annoyed and followed her. “You have received an invitation, Lady Margaery Tyrell invites you to the dance on honor of her engagement with Lord Renly Baratheon”

 

Brienne looked at the envelope, took it and went to her room. She could hear Roelle's complains but she needed a bath and sleep. Later, when she was already in her sleeping clothes, she found she could not sleep. Renly... he had been the only nice person she had ever met apart from Ser Goodwin who had trained her before she joined the club. He never laughed at the fiasco her first engagement had been, or the second... not even how she ended the third. He did not look at her with revulsion or treated her like a freak. He danced with her and made her laugh. She saw him from time to time at fencing practices but did not always talk to him. Part of her wanted to go to the party, just to see him but other part just wanted to crawl in a corner and cry. 

 

She was already crying and looking at the stars. He would have never loved her, she knew that very well but she still felt a terrible sadness at knowing he was going to get married. Desperately needing some fresh air she opened the door of the balcony and almost went out. She backed off right on time and gasped.

 

“You have good reflexes, my lady” _that man, how did he get there?_ she thought. It was on the second floor, and it was not possible to climb it, the wall was covered with thorny plants.

 

“How...?” she mustered while she recoiled. He did not follow her instead he just stood there.

 

“You are very fast for such a big woman”

 

“What are you?” in her confusion she avoided paying attention to the way he said _big woman_.

 

He laughed “I'm someone who admires you, who admires big things like you”

 

“How did you get here, what do you want?”

 

“Just to admire you”

 

It annoyed her so much that it took her some minutes to realize that he was not following her. It relieved her but at the same time it seemed too odd. The way he looked at her was the same one in which a wild animal evaluates it's prey.

 

“Whoever you are, leave” she could punch him, push him away, but a voice in her head insisted strongly in her staying inside.

 

“A pity” he shrugged and then he was gone.

 

After some minutes, when she thought he was really not there anymore she closed the door and took a glass of water. That could not be a normal man... or maybe she was dreaming. 


	2. The bored temptress and her pet

“Cersei, I don't see why would I ever want to do that” the idea was absurd.

 

All his sister did was sit on the big red chair they had at their bedroom, that little effort was all it took her to be fascinating and sensual. She laughed and that was more enticing even. 

 

“You do not believe it will be possible?” she was teasing him now “Doubting your seduction capacities now, Jaime?”

 

“No, doubting my interest in this woman”

 

“It is just because you have not smelled her, the righteous one sometimes smell better than the murderers. I do fancy those though” she played with her hair and looked at him with a malevolent smile.

 

“Then why don't you catch her?” said he, stating the obvious.

 

“But that would not be fun” she crossed her legs, slower than normally, seductively “I want to see her surrender herself to you, she is that kind of girl who thinks she is better than others, high morals and proud, I want you to crush her”

 

“How would you know that?” insisted he, still unconvinced.

 

“I've seen her, I've seen how she looks at the people who kiss – even chastely – in the street, how she is annoyed at the comments of her fencing partners, and she is hard to look upon. She has never received male attention. She will fall for it” 

 

“Why do you want that?”

 

“I detest women like her, I want to see her horror when you betray her. It will give her a different taste”

 

Jaime was unconvinced. “I only need you” he said to her, stroking her hair.

 

“I know, Jaime” she caressed his cheeks “but I am bored, and I need you for this... it will not be difficult, you just have to pretend to care about her not care for real”

 

She was terribly beautiful, he almost agreed. “Besides, you will do her a favor, walking alone at night, being such a freak, one day or the other someone, maybe even one of her fencing partners, is going to kill her, rape her first for sure. Wouldn't it be better if she feels like she is loved before dying?”

 

“The things I do for love” and they kissed, finally surrendering to her charms.

 

Late at night Cersei told him “I will give you a month and a half, during that time, Taena and I are leaving for Dorne” At this time of the year Dorne streets were flooding with people from the south that arrive for the festivities in honor of their Prince. Cersei always loved to hunt there with Taena.

 

That night the big girl was still on the streets even at that late hour. He decided to appear and surprise her slightly but she was not easily scared as other ladies. He waited near her door at the balcony for a couple of hours. She was crying while looking at the invitation she had received, then she looked at the stars dreamily. Her blue eyes were full of innocence. When she opened the door he almost got a hold of her but somehow she escaped him. Initially he just wanted to annoy her. He thought courtesy was not going to work so if he annoyed her enough so that she would try to hit him, while crossing the door, he could grab her. It did not work though, so he left. Her tears puzzled him, he needed to assist this ceremony.

 

It was not hard, the Lannister was still a name that inspired respect, they were the eccentric rich people that never wander too far from their rocky castle. Sometimes people rumored that the descendant looked too similar to the parents of the previous generation, but it only took to disappear for a decade to make them forget about that.

 

He changed clothes and left to the party the following night. Several ladies were pleased to talk to him and even some gentlemen. No one noticed how slowly he was moving to reach his objective. She was standing, looking boringly at the floor. The green dress was delicate but she looked very uncomfortable in it. It did not help her at all. Then Lord Renly asked her to dance. The way her face illuminated was all the explanation Jaime needed. _So she is in love with this lord, poor girl_ thought Jaime _._ He knew just by how Lord Renly looked at his future brother-in-law that no lady at that party owned his heart. She was much taller than Lord Renly, she was even taller than Jaime himself but at least the difference was not as terribly conspicuous as the one of her and the lord she loved.

 

When that piece was finished she went to her corner. Jaime was there before her and asked her to dance with him. She looked at him wide-eyed and said nothing. 

 

“Perhaps my lady does not know me, it's the first time I come to the city, my name is Jaime Lannister” and he kissed her hand.

 

He saw the doubt in her face. “First time?”

 

“Oh yes, my parents did come here many years ago, I have not been here often”

 

“Excuse me Ser, I was under the impression that we had met before” said she in a small voice.

 

“We did not my lady, I only just arrived”

 

“Oh” she seemed still confused but then accepted dancing with him.

 

Her face was not a pretty one, she was big and muscular. But Cersei was right, her blood smelled intoxicating and alluring. Her eyes, he had to admit, they were quite remarkable, beautiful sapphire eyes. Jaime could tell that she was aware of how the faces of the crowd looked at her with pure rejection. It seemed more evident to her now since she was not with Renly, she was paying attention to the people. Jaime felt strangely sorry for her.

 

“What is my lady's name?”

 

“Brienne, Brienne of Tarth” she barely looked at him. 

 

“Your eyes are quite beautiful, Lady Brienne”

 

She flickered and stared with slightly angry eyes “I am no lady”

 

“What would you rather be?”

 

Her eyes now showed confusion when she met his, _good._ “If you are no lady, what would you rather be?”

 

“Just an honorable person”

 

“Honor is important then, for you”

 

“Yes”

 

“And duty?” she looked suddenly tense. _Interesting_

 

“Yes, why?”

 

“Because my lady is intriguing me, what activities entertain you?”

 

“Fencing, horse ridding” she was defensive, as if expecting that he would reject her, just like everybody else.

 

“Interesting activities, are these enjoyed with some company or my lady rather expend her time alone?”

 

“There is a fencing club, I ride alone”

 

They continued discussing Brienne's activities during 3 more dances. As the conversation advanced she seemed to relax. Others tried to ask Brienne to dance with them but Jaime insisted too much on dancing _just one more_. It took him all his patience and convincing words to make her accept joining him in the balcony to seek fresh air. 

 

Once there he asked her. “Would you consider perhaps, that riding alone at night could be dangerous?” she opened her eyes very wide and her hand closed into fists. There was nobody else outside but them.

 

“Why is my lord asking me that?” she asked almost grinding her teeth. Her scarce breasts moving up and down due to her fast breathing started to distract Jaime more than he wanted to admit. 

 

“There are many dangers for a young lady in the streets, I am only worried” he said, with feigned concern.

 

“I am well trained, I can defend myself”

 

“Can you?” and with a swift movement, he went behind her, placing a hand over her mouth and another around her waist, he dragged her to the forest. 


	3. The maiden and her savior

Brienne knew that it was him but he seemed not to know her. _A dream, it can not be otherwise. People can't fly_ she told herself. It was still strange that she would dream about this particular man. He was being really courteous and seemed to be interested in her company. She could not understand why, many women were looking at her with envious eyes. He was very handsome, he could have danced with anyone else. When he mentioned duty, the faces of her failed betrothals crossed her mind. _So this is why? He wants to mock me on my failure as a daughter of Lord Tarth?_ but she was relieved when he did not inquire more about them.

 

When he asked her to leave to the balcony for air she thought it was her chance to go back to her corner. However he insisted so much and with such kindness that it would have been improper to say no. He had danced with her after all. When he mentioned riding late at night she feared it had not been a dream after all. He moved too fast, terrifyingly fast. She fought and kicked, she was strong but he was stronger. Her heart was racing and she felt impotent, incapable of escaping. He jumped from the balcony and landed as it had been nothing, and it seemed as if carrying her was a minor effort to him. A mountain would have been easier to move than his hands, she tried and tried but couldn't move them. Desperately she continued to struggle as she was forced away from the castle. The castle, she needed to return, why had she accepted dancing with this creature? In the forest nobody was going to find them... 

 

“Can you really defend yourself?” and he pinned her to a tree. “Then how come I just kidnapped you?”

 

Both her hands were trapped behind her back by only one of his hands, while the other was pressing her face against the tree, his legs trapped hers. No one had ever been this close to her and no one had scared her that much before. Nevertheless, rage won over fear when she heard his sneering comment. 

 

“Yes, you are strong, but what does it say about you that you use it against someone weaker?” it took her some pain to admit it.

 

Fury briefly crossed his face but he said still smiling “I'm just proving a point here, there are dangers out there that my lady knows nothing about” he put a finger in his teeth and bitted his own glove, slowly he removed it and caressed her face. Brienne was shocked, he was cold.

 

“Do not touch me” she almost spat at him.

 

“Does my temperature disturbs you?”

 

“Leave me” she wanted to sound brave, she sounded girlish instead.

 

“As you wish” and he released her, giving two steps back.

 

“What are you?” she said, still not daring to move. He continued to look at her as if she was his prey.

 

“Lord Lannister, at your service my lady” he briefly bowed “I apologize for my behavior. As I said, I just wanted to prove a point”

 

“Are you letting me go or do you plan to drag me back here before I get to the castle?” she said, still not daring to move.

 

“Of course you can go. Please forgive my lady, I only wanted to get to know you better”

 

Without letting him escape her sight she moved. A step, then two, then she was almost running. He did let her go. 

 

Brienne could not remember what happened the rest of the party. She did not see him the following night either. Relief filled her but part of her knew he was not done with her. _Fine, I'll train more, he will not capture me so easily next time_. 

 

She was still afraid, that thing was not a normal human. Regardless of his nature, nobody was going to save her, she needed to be ready to face him alone.

 

Two nights after the incident, on the way back to her island she heard a girl screaming. Immediately she directed her horse towards the origin of the sound. A red-haired girl was running from five men in horses, her clothes indicated that she was highborn. Brienne rode as fast as possible, grabbed her, placed the girl in front of her and made her horse run as quickly as she could. The girl was crying but she put her hands around Brienne as if her life depended on it. 

 

Another man appeared, blocking their way and Brienne commanded her mare to stop. With a hand to hold the reins, she used the other to take her sword. The men laughed, unmounted and approached her. That had been a mistake, yet she was used to men snaring at her. She hurt two and killed one of them before they realized she was not a weak woman. One of them took a knife and the other a sword but a shadow past near them. Horrible noises followed, desperate screams and necks being broken. Before she had time to assimilate what was happening the bodies were in front of her. Faces deformed by fear, one of them with his head almost ripped from the rest of his body. Blood started covering the street, blood of those men. 

 

She looked from one direction to the other. No one. 

 

Then just for some minutes, Jaime was standing in front of her, putting two fingers on his hat, saluting and smiling, and then he was gone. It took some time for Brienne to react. The scene almost made her gag. Some time later when she managed to stop trembling she asked the girl “What is your name, my lady?” 

 

The girl loosened her grip and looked at Brienne “I'm Sansa, Sansa Stark”

 

“I know where your residence is, I will take you there”

 

“Thank you” said Sansa almost crying.

 

Lady Catelyn Stark, Sansa's mother, was incredibly grateful. A group of bandits had assaulted Lady Sansa's carriage on her way back home from a celebration. They had killed the driver and the girls that accompanied Lady Sansa. She was lucky to have escaped at all. The Starks were very grateful to Brienne that their fair girl had escaped with her honor intact. So grateful they insisted on her staying for a night at least. It was too late, the castle of the Starks was too much on the North of the city, she was not going to reach her island that night. So she agreed and they sent a messenger to her father's house. They gave her one room at the third floor. It had a balcony but she had developed a distaste for balconies in the last days.

 

Brienne was about to fall asleep when she heard the balcony door creaking. A silent shadow came crawling near her. To her horror she saw the shadow became Jaime Lannister.


	4. The unexpected hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two fights, more death and then a star.

He could not let others tarnish her prey. That scum had to die. When Brienne left he finished those she had hurt. They were not very tasty but he was an educated boy. He knew that it is best to not let food to rot.

 

When she went to the Stark castle he wanted to laugh. On the night of the Baratheon party he had seduced a girl of that house. Jeyne was her name. He had only spoken to her, of course, he had only one woman. The night before he had been there for diner. He had invented excuses to avoid eating but was still well received.

 

The moment she saw him he could read the fear in her face. She reached for her sword and immediately pointed it towards him. She was only wearing a chemise, her impossibly long legs were visible. Too visible. Why did that excited him so, he did not want to question himself. The excitement was bordering a fine line between that one caused by a prey and that caused by a woman. Yet he only knew one real woman.

 

He jumped to her bed but landed without making any noise. He was expecting to land on top of her but she had rolled out of the bed and was standing next to it with her sword still pointing towards him. She was fast and her ferocity amused him. They stared at each other for a couple of seconds, fear had disappeared from her face and determination had replaced it. He went behind her but she was ready for this move. Her sword draw an arc with such precision it would have pierced him if he had not been as fast as he was. He could not contain his smile, she was so entertaining. He was glad of being well fed, had he been debilitated by hunger she could actually be a match for him. He tried again to reach behind her but her sword almost kissed his face. Left and right, down and even up, there was no use, she was always able to read him. _Have you been practicing my sweetling?_ thought him. It seemed as if having her sword gave her more confidence, it seemed as if she was unreachable with it. _But you are not._

 

He went behind her again but midway he changed directions and escaping her sword he placed himself in front of her. She realized too late what he had done and tried to recoil however he seized both her hands. With only one hand he disarmed her, she fought but lost. Grunting in frustration, she was forced to let the sword fall to the ground and her other hand was trapped by his. Nevertheless he had to admit she was very strong, Cersei might not have been able to defeat her that quickly. He forced her back to the bed, she struggled to keep distance but she was soon against the wall with nowhere else to go. She tried to kick him but he pressed her legs with his knees. Pressing her hands over her head he approached her face and whispered “What a poor welcome to the one who saved you”.

 

“It was unnecessary, I could have saved her alone” she said breathing hard, even in this situation she was brave. He had to give her that. Their fight had made her sweat. He observed how one drop trailed down her cheek and further down her neck until it disappeared down her chemise. He could hear it advancing in between her breasts and how, by the movement caused by one exhalation, it got sucked by her clothes. Strangely he wondered what it would be like to follow that trail with his hands and how much further down could he go. 

 

“Oh, but I did save you, you have not thanked me” he looked at her eyes again, forcing himself to concentrate on his task, on what he had planned to do. She seemed more disturbed by his wandering eyes than by the imminent death that he represented.

 

“If that is what you want, then, thank you.. now you can leave” said the stubborn woman.

 

“Oh, so fast? I have only just arrived” teased him.

 

“I need to sleep and I do not want you here”

 

“You wound me, I only ever wanted to meet you”

 

“Leave” she commanded. He almost felt compelled to obey but there was only one woman that commanded him so.

 

Therefore he recovered and said “No”

 

“I thanked you, what else do you want?” she seemed more tired than scared now. 

 

“What about a kiss?” her eyes became very wide but she did not reply “The fair maiden should thank her savior with a kiss”

 

“I will not kiss you” she said, gritting her teeth.

 

“I could force you”

 

“You could, you are that much of a coward” her words were a slap on his face.

 

“What?” he was immediately offended.

 

“That is what you are, preying on whoever is weaker than you. There is no merit in that. It would be as if I picked a fight with a cat, you attack whoever cannot defeat you. You are a monster and a coward”

 

“Fine wench, have it your way” and he left completely upset. 

 

It was not understandable how did that woman touched on his nerves so easily all the time. He had saved her but she still made him feel guilty about going to ask for thanks. _I should just let her be, Cersei's idea was stupid, I should have killed her at the party._ He had considered for a moment killing her that night, in the forest, but changed his mind for some unfathomable reason.

 

Still, he spied on her the following night. When he reached the building where she trained some men were outside, talking about Brienne. They mentioned that it took some time to realize she was a woman, with her prowess in fencing, her muscles and the fact that she kept using male clothes. 

 

“How much is the bet now?” one of them asked. He had the ugliest nose Jaime had ever seen. 

  
“We have reached 60 pieces of gold” replied the big red-haired one. 

 

“I say I can take it today” said the one with disproportionately large eyes.

 

“She will not let you, I heard she killed 6 men the other day to save that Stark girl” said another, the smallest of the lot.

 

“They were probably not ready for that woman, we could do it together, we all have enough swords” replied ugly nose. 

 

“And then who would take her?” asked the same raid-haired guy.

 

“It does not matter, we can all do it and then divide the gold once one of us collects it” said the small guy.

 

“Let's do it tomorrow” said big eyes “My uncle owns a gun, we will be more certain to overpower her if we have that, there's that engagement party she will probably go to, we can do it after that”

 

Jaime felt the urge to kill them right there but then he saw Brienne leaving and decided to follow her. He did not let her see him this night. He only observed her. She was a good woman, a stubborn one but with a good heart. She was brave too, how she saved that girl and how she replied to him made that clear to him. 

 

He was not going to allow those men to hurt her. _And why do I care? As Cersei said, she's the one taking all these risks_ thought he, reprimanding himself.

 

Even then he continued observing her. The following night he saw how those men that were plotting against her insisted that she should accompany them to the celebration that night. The cousin of one of them was celebrating her engagement and they insisted she should go with them. They talked and talked but she was not convinced, she had decided not to assist in the end. Finally one mentioned that Lord Renly was also going. She seemed to doubt but they pushed more so she left with them. 

 

She stood there for a couple of hours. Renly did went but stood there briefly and talked mostly with Ser Loras, she did not have time to approach him. Or probably did not have the courage to do so. On her way to the door the men insisted she stood longer, to sleep even since it was so late, but she was convinced that she should leave. Jaime could hear all the conversation from outside, and was happy when they let her go. 

 

Brienne was on the road when the same men shoot at her horse. She fell but grabbed her sword. The men surrounded her but she fought with two of them, defeating them. The one with the gun then gave a step forward, pointing at her.

 

“You better let that go, darling, you were never meant to carry that around anyway” said the red-haired guy.

 

“Surrender willingly, we do not care to fuck your corpse” said big eyes.

 

“I will not yield, if it's a corpse you want, that's what you will have” she said, brave as always.

 

He took the one with the gun first, in the confusion Brienne hit one and pierced the other with her sword. Jaime killed the one that tried to escape. The wounded one asked for mercy and Brienne accepted taking him to the Commander of the city.

 

Brienne looked at him with a mixture of gratitude and confusion. “Lord Jaime... seems that I should thank you again”

 

“At least this time you acknowledge it faster” he smiled.

 

She stared at him and then looked at the corpses. “I should tell the authorities” she said.

 

“I will go with you” _She could use a testimony like mine._

 

It had been a good idea to follow her. Though these men had been accused before he saw immediately that Lord Commander Tarly had no love for Brienne. He would have imprisoned her had Jaime and the other man not have been there. In fact, had Jaime not been here that same man who wanted to rape Brienne could have lied and accused her of murdering his friends for no reason. It had only been fear of Jaime that compelled him to tell the truth. The surviving man, who was the smallest of the group, supported Jaime's version of how he had heard them plan to rape her. The soldiers admitted that many ladies had complained about them before. He looked meekly at Jaime while confessing his crimes. They tossed the man in a cell after he admitted of several other crimes. It was useful to be someone of great political importance, he forced the Commander to hear them and also helped them leave faster. Jaime was strangely enraged against Lord Commander Tarly, he could somehow perceive that the man would have rather have Brienne raped and killed. Lord Tarly was annoyed by the fact that she had survived yet another attack.

 

Jaime decided to accompany her to her castle. He bought two horses and they went together. She was awfully quiet but he noticed that she kept looking at him when he did not look at her.

 

“Surprised that the authorities know me?” said he, smiling.

 

“No, it's... why?” she finally asked “why did you save me?”

 

“I also detest men like them” After some time he continued “you are wrong about me, I do not take advantage of weaker creatures”

 

“I am thankful, very much” she swallowed “But that is a lie” she added firmly.

 

“Why do you say it?”

 

“You took advantage of me, I know that I am stronger than other women but if you could overpower me then... you can do that easily with any other woman or man”

 

“ I was not trying to kill you. I only take those who want it, or those who deserve it.”

 

“And how would you know that?”

 

“After some time, it becomes easier to read people”

 

She became quiet after that. When they arrived she dismounted and gave the reins back to him.

 

“It's yours, consider it a gift” said Jaime.

 

“I do not want it” insisted she stubbornly.

 

“It is still yours, I will not take it”

 

She just stared at him. Immediately he started to feel an excruciating pain on his face. He recoiled and fell from the horse. It was only then that he realized it was dawning. He could not enter Brienne's castle and there were no building nearby. The sun's kiss was here to take him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never practiced fencing so please forgive my ignorance, I hope you can enjoy this anyway. Sorry for the impossible long delay, I was very unsure about this and also had trips and deadlines, well, many things to deal with. Please comment if you find this interesting and thanks for reading


	5. The Maid's unwanted host

At first she did not understand what made Jaime agonize. Then she saw that he was trying to hide in the shadows and that the moment a ray of light touched his hand it started to burn. She threw her jacket over him, trying to extinguish the fire and dragged him inside the house. Ridiculously, he resisted “You did not invite me in” said he, in pain.

 

“Consider yourself invited in then” and she pushed him inside. Without analyzing her actions, she ordered the maids to prepare a bath in the guest room, went in and closed the curtains and took the injured Jaime in the guest room, leaving soon afterwards. Only after all this was done she started to consider what she had done. It was true that he had saved her. She would be dishonored and probably dead by now if it was not for him. Still, it became somehow evident to her that now her house was not safe, it was not longer what kept her safe from him.

 

He was not human, he could kill her and her father. She should have left him die in the sun. But she had not. _Why did I do it?_ He had saved her, it would have been wrong not to save him. _Is that the only reason?_ There was no way she could address that particular question right now.

 

She went to his room and knocked the door. 

 

“Come in” he said.

 

She did, and closed the door behind her.

 

“Are you comfortable?” she asked. And Jaime appeared in front of her, completely naked.

 

She had never seen a naked man before and she could not help but stare. His right hand and part of his face were burned but he could still put Apolo to shame. It took her some seconds to remember her behavior was wrong and inappropriate. Looking at the floor and turning her back to him she excused herself and tried to leave.

 

“Excuse me my lady, but please do not go” he said, almost begging.

 

She should have left. She didn't, she just stood there, counting her heartbeats and staring at the floor, feeling that their silence was consuming her. Hearing him dress himself, she could not help imagine how the cloth must feel as it came in contact with his skin. She would have run from that room if that had not put in evidence how nervous he was making her.

 

“I owe you my life now, Lady Brienne” she looked at him tentatively, he was dressed now. “I am very thankful to you”

 

“You saved me before, now we are even” she said, swallowing.

 

“That was all? Just an adjustments of debts?” she tried to ignore the hurt she heard in his voice.

 

He gave a step towards her and words almost scrambled out of her mouth “It is late, I must leave you, please stay as long as you feel the need to do so” 

 

“You are not answering my question”

 

She confronted him “I am thankful you saved me, it was my duty to do the same”

 

“The honorable thing to do, then...”

 

He seemed almost disappointed. “You do realize what this means, though?” he asked.

 

She feared this question. “Yes, now you can come in, you can enter my house” her breathing accelerated and she thought that he was going to jump over her again. Her body tensed and prepared itself for an attack. He didn't attack her.

 

“If my lord can excuse me, I am very tired”

 

“Yes please, go and rest”

 

Doubting him, she left. It was difficult to fall asleep. She had lost her mare, her lovely mare, her friend... and she feared she could still lose much more. Her eyes kept a firm stare at the ceiling, half expecting that after a blink Jaime would appear in front of her, pin her to her own bed, kill her or... something. Fear but at the same time determination. She was going to deal with him if he attacked her. He was not going to take her without a fight. She even had her sword next to her bed, just in case. 

 

When she woke up she was surprised that her sleep went uneventful. Her father asked to see her so they spoke for a couple of hours. He asked her to be more careful then went on with his business. He had heard of the Lord Lannister and wanted to speak to him, to thank him for saving his daughter, but understood that he got injured and that it would be better to discuss with him later. She bit her lip, annoyed at having to lie to her own father. It had not been the fight that had injured Lord Jaime. To try and forget about her fears and guilt she kept her routine, asked the maids not to disturb the visitor and later went to the practice. Brienne ignored as best as she could Lady Roelle's mumblings about coming to a house with a man she did not know.

 

Some of the men where staring at her and she heard some commenting about the previous night. No one asked her what had happened. A band of rapist almost killed her but now people looked at her suspiciously. At the end of the training she could notice that they were avoiding her. It was not clear to her why but she had no friends there to ask. Jaime was waiting for her outside.

 

“My lady seems surprised to see me” said he, with that ravishing smile of his.

 

“Why are you here? And how did you manage to recover so fast?” _It looks like nothing ever happened to him._

 

“Oh, my face, there is an easy cure for that, in my case I just need to feed. Now about my presence here...My lady seems to attract danger to herself, I feel it might be better if I escort her”

 

“I can protect myself”She preferred to ignore discussing at this moment the issue about him feeding.

 

“I promise to intervene only if necessary, will my lady accept my company then?”

 

Nodding slightly she accepted, feeling somehow defeated. It made no sense, he was going to do as it pleased him. 

 

“They hate you” he said some time later.

 

“Excuse me?” said she in surprise.

 

“The men you train with, they hate you” he repeated flatly.

 

“How would you know?”

 

“I heard them, my ears... they are more sensitive than yours”

 

“Oh... I did nothing to gain their hate”

 

“They hate you because you can defeat them and because you are a woman. A big woman. You have suddenly become a hero for the Starks and you just killed three serial rapist. They do not find in themselves a way to respect you so they resent you instead”

 

She had known, how? It did not matter, she had known that they did not like her but it was hard to hear it said out loud.

 

“I just want to be good” said she, as if trying to defend herself.

 

“You just want to improve, but they will never accept you”

 

That was also not a mystery, it had always been obvious. Yet she just did not want to deal with that truth. 

 

“There are many dangerous men in the street, people are unhappy with their king, with the nobles... some speak about a war coming” continued him.

 

“Why are you telling me this?”

 

“A noble lady walking around the streets alone, and you never made where your allegiances lay a mystery, it is not safe” to her surprise and confusion she detected was a hint of concern in his voice.

 

“Would you rather have me locked in my room learning how to sew, paint and take care of a house? Some enjoy that, I enjoy other things”

 

“Indeed you do, it is still madness what you do, you are exposing yourself unnecessarily”

 

“You are not particularly suited to talk about needless exposure” she almost laughed at his reaction when she said that. He stared at her, surprised at first then melting into that terrifyingly beautiful smile of his. It made her stomach lurch but she kept looking at him and smiling, defiantly. _Yes, you can't give me advice when you almost got yourself killed by your own stupidity._

 

“Still, can't you hire someone to train with you at your home?” 

Her smile disappeared immediately.

 

“I am not going to stay locked at my castle like some scared child”

 

“Fine, stubborn wench” he said angrily “but you are not getting rid of me then, I will always ride with you from now on”

 

“I'm not a wench, my name is Brienne. And why are you trying to protect me?” Words let her mouth too fast, he was making her nervous. It was not only how chivalrous he was with her, it was that promise, the promise of closeness, of continuous company. There was no one she could call a close friend, she didn't trust anyone that much, once she had... and it had gone completely wrong. She feared what closeness implied, especially with this creature and she feared that already at this moment her inner walls were trembling. _It is not going to happen, I will not be made a fool, I am not a child anymore_ she told herself.

 

He gave her a very serious look and a smile. That smile again, that equally annoying and beautiful smile of his “It's not only men that I am worried about”

 

That sent a thrill down her spine. _Were there others like him?_


	6. The wedding partner

Curiously, Jaime felt anguished to some degree once Brienne finally told him her father was expecting to see him that night. He was enjoying the fear in her eyes after he confessed that there were other vampires around when in retaliation she told him about the dinner. He could have sworn she was amused by his nervousness. The strange thing was why, why would he be nervous? He charmed everyone, he knew how to. What difference would that man make?

 

Brienne also told him that she had lied to her father, that he thought Jaime was injured and that was the reason he stood that morning at the island. It felt almost obscene to make Brienne lie, it seemed she was made of honor and loyalty. Lying did not suited her. It was obvious that she was terribly uncomfortable with being forced to do it. It made him chuckle. Poor, innocent Brienne... Even as a little child, Cersei had been a fantastic liar. Both his siblings were. A strange thought crossed his mind but he discarded it immediately. He knew that they had never lied to him. They wouldn't.

 

Jaime promised Brienne he would arrange something so that her father would not suspect them. After leaving Brienne at the entrance of her castle he flew back home. He returned with a new change of clothes and with his right hand covered in a piece of cloth. He decided to pretend that it was his hand what got injured. Then he saw it, still shinning as if it was new. Unbidden, memories he rather forget flooded his mind. He doubted some minutes and took it with him before leaving in order to be punctual to that wretched dinner. 

 

Lord Selwyn Tarth, or the Evenstar as he was famously known, was a broad and tall man, as tall as his daughter and as intimidating as she was stubborn. Without much ceremony he thanked him for assisting Brienne and invited him to sit. He then asked him about his injury and if he needed medical attention. Jaime refused very politely and then they discussed about his family and politics. It was not a lie to say that Jaime's parents were dead but he did had to lie about the date. Jaime made an effort to concentrate about his mother when this question came. _That will probably be just one of the many lies I will have to tell this night._

 

The meeting went almost uneventful, except for the part where he refused to eat. Jaime indicated that meal after the sun went down did not suit him well. He was thankful that the attention of Lord Selwyn was focused on him rather than on Brienne. _What are you expecting me to say wench? One can't be honest about these details_ he thought as Brienne's eyes were threatening to leave their cavities if she continued opening them wider. Disregarding Brienne's eyes, coughs, gasps and nervous water drinking – and spilling – he continued lying through his teeth to the magnificent Evenstar, being as charming as possible. By the end of the dinner he was sure that he had won his trust. 

 

He also amused himself at the thought that Lord Selwyn probably considered his daughter's odd behavior to be caused by some particular feelings he suspected she had for Jaime. The conversation had been too much about Jaime's family, station and especially about him being single for Jaime not to realize that Brienne's father was almost considering the matter, at least lightly. _Keep inviting me to dine with your father and we will find ourselves engaged, wench._ For a fleeting moment he toyed with the idea, thinking that Cersei would probably think he was taking matters too far. _Could I convince Cersei to look for another prey?_ Surprised at his own question, he tried to continue lying a bit more, only to annoy Brienne, forcing himself to forget that thought. Marrying the wench? Ridiculous. Besides, thinking of avoiding Brienne's death was a waste of time. Cersei was not going to give up on her idea. 

 

He was obviously invited to stay as long as he desired. Brienne seemed to be fighting with words but in the end decided to agree with his father, although he could see the defiance in her eyes. _She's almost threatening me, she thinks I will hurt her father._ It pained him slightly but he couldn't blame her. 

 

Later in the guest room he stared at the useless thing. He had wanted to give it to her but he thought better about it and left it hidden in the room. He had no need for it but for some reason he thought there will be a better moment to present it to her. It was decided, it was going to belong to her. _Maybe she can give it a more honorable story, if she tried she could even give me honor_. He laughed at the thought, partly wishing it was true. 

 

The following nights went quite calmly except... Brienne was a difficult person to ride with. She kept reacting strangely to his comments and he found himself incredibly annoyed by some of hers. Even then he persisted. _I don't even know why I care._ But he kept waiting for her after her training. For some reason he kept trying to get to know her better.

 

“What do you usually do during the mornings?”

 

“Why do you want to know?” said she, exasperating him.

 

“Just tell me, up to this moment you did not talk more than about fencing, swords and your horse. Tell me about other things you do or like”

 

Sighing she replied “My father sometimes delegates some of the duties to me. Sometimes I need to deal with problems in the island, land distribution, conflicted houses that serve him, the orphanage”

 

“You dislike some of these duties, but you like the orphanage” he could tell by her tone. Brienne seemed surprised he noticed.

 

“Some of the children... they are nice to me”

 

“Because you are kind to them”

 

 _Why am I enjoying this, why do I like to make her blush? I should have killed her, I can't do it now._ Initially he had been upset, even jealous of Cersei's obsession with the idea of dishonoring and killing Brienne. He wanted to be done with her soon so that he could have his life back with Cersei. Now, every day he found it harder to accept the idea of killing Brienne. There seemed to be so much to know about her. _I am the one who is supposed to be convincing this ugly creature to give up her honor for me, I feel drawn to her instead. Cersei, would you forgive me if I do not keep my word?_

Since the day of the dinner, no, before, since she saved him, he kept thinking on ways to save Brienne from their game. 

 

“Are you honestly thinking of riding with me every night?” asked her, sounding concerned.

 

“That is my intention”

 

“For how long, what is it that you want?”

 

“To know you”

 

“Why do you want to know your prey?” she swallowed as she said it. 

 

It seemed odd and he wanted to deny it but Brienne was right. _Why indeed?._

 

“Why have you not killed me yet?”

 

“Do you want to die?”

 

“No”

 

“Then that's your answer, I do not kill those who do not want it or deserve it, you are disqualified in both categories” _It's not technically a lie, I usually do not kill those who do not want it, you were going to be the exception, wench._

 

“Is that a rule for your... kind?”

 

“A rule we follow, not all of us, some”

 

Silence. They remained in silence for an hour at least. 

 

“You will not kill my father then, or our servants?” she dared to ask.

 

“If they do not want it or deserve it, no”

 

That answer seemed to calm her but she was still slightly tense around him. Some days she would seem to relax more, then at some point seemed to remember who he was and regained her cold behavior towards him. Her defenses were crumbling, she kept rebuilding them but they were crumbling and the thought satisfied him. She had told the maids that Lord Lannister preferred to take his food alone. Technically, it had not been a lie. He could still imagine how Brienne cringed at being forced to lie again, _for him_. Later she would take his food untouched to the orphans. Jaime hunted while she fenced, he thought she rather not see him feeding. 

 

One night she finally asked. “Are you... do you... when do you... eat?”

 

“When I am as far away from your beautiful eyes as I can”

 

Ignoring his compliment about her eyes she just continued “Does some ask, do they really ask you? How do you know?”

 

“It is almost as if they smelled in a different way and you can read it in their eyes”

 

“And what about the others.. the ones you say deserve it... how do you know?”

 

“They commit crimes that would earn them death if your authorities ever knew”

 

“Can someone really deserve to die as they do with you?” she said, growing very tense.

 

“Trust me, most had less consideration to others than what I show them” insisted he.

 

“Still.... For, how long as it been like this?”

 

“Many years”

 

“Do you ever feel remorse?”

 

“Do you believe people feel remorse when you slay a cow?”

 

“So that is it, we are just cattle for you” he could hear the badly contained anger in her voice.

 

“I have no choice, I decided to accept who I am and deal with it in the best possible way. You should also accept who you are” he said to her.

 

“I accept who I am” she said startled.

 

“You deny everything about who you are, you do not even accept what you feel”

 

“How would you know what I feel?”

 

“I have eyes, anyone who has them can see what you feel about Lord Renly”

 

She was surprised and it took her some time to react. “What do you mean?”

 

“You love him, why did you not try to convince your father to arrange something, talk with Lord Renly?”

 

“He would not have accepted, their house is far richer than mine, and I... it would have never happened”

 

“So you let him marry another, without a fight, without trying”

 

“It's too late now, their wedding is next week” she replied, frustrated.

 

“Are you going?”

 

“No”

 

“You should, I can go with you” It amused him how that made her chuckle. “Honestly, I have not been in a wedding for almost a decade”

 

“Do not mock me and try and be less dishonest”

 

“I am not mocking you and I'm as honest as I can be”

 

Tried as she might, it was clear that she could not fight the smile that curled her lips after she heard his statement. “We could... maybe” then she became serious “but you shouldn't murder at the party”

 

Déjà vu, he had already been commanded many times by a woman. His sister also had the tendency to tell him what to do in that demanding, serious tone. And Brienne herself had already commanded him before, that time he had ignored her. This time he was going to obey this lady.

 

“I will be sure to be satisfied before, my lady” He contained his smile, he knew she did not want to admit when she feared him.


	7. The winner of the match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne being amazing, Sansa fangirling over Brienne, and Jaime annoying Brienne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a lot to H3L for her help =)

_For how long will he stay?_ He has remained for at least a week already. Always in the same room, mysteriously disappearing at some point and reappearing with new clothes outside the club. It makes her nervous to think about what plans this creature has for her. She fears for her family and has no idea how to rid herself of him. She could let the sun solve her worries but he is now a guest at her house. A guest must be respected, whoever he is. Even then, the threat he represents is never far from her mind. So much so that she asks him directly once, although he avoids promising _not_ to kill them, at least he assures her he would not do so as long as they did not desire it. She thinks it is probably the best this creature can offer her.

 

It has been difficult to lie to her father. Her father has always been so generous and understanding with her. Lord Selwyn is a good man, busy but always accepting her odd ways. A pang of guilt washes over her but she tells herself that it is for the best if he does not know about these creatures. It would only worry him and they would probably kill him for the knowledge. Despite Jaime's display of strength and apparent honesty, it has thus far only been directed at her. She had never heard about these creatures before Jaime, and it is likely because they were secretive. It might be dangerous if her father ever found out and she just does not want to risk it. It is best if she deals with them alone.

 

Despite Jaime being who – or what – he is, he had saved her, twice from criminals and once from Lord Tarly. She is sure that man would have rather had her arrested than the real criminal they took with them that night. She knows he detests her. The message was always clear in his cold eyes more than once, whenever his men would lose to her in every tournament.

 

Dinner with her father and Jaime had been pure torture. It amazes her how Jaime can lie to her father's face without even blinking. It caused him no pain or remorse to lie like that. For Brienne it is not so. Every lie she is forced to invent for him feels like a knife in her guts. She needs all her strength to keep a normal face, to keep her lips moving and letting the words flow. The words leave her forever, staining her memories and imprinting themselves in the black book of her wrong deeds.

 

It is tragically funny that the only man that ever seems to accept her ways, apart from her father and Ser Goodwin, is Jaime. She has seen surprise, and even admiration, in his eyes when he observes her fencing. At the beginning he only waited for her outside the club but one day she is shocked to see him observing her practice. He was beaming approvingly and she could not believe that he was the same creature that had tried to seize her from her balcony. It is difficult to reconcile in her mind the proudly smiling man with the fiend who had dragged her into the forest, who had pinned her to a bed and eyed her predatorily. This is also the same creature that viciously killed many men; she had seen him commit the deed herself... Nevertheless she cannot forget this is also the man that saved her. Thrice he has attacked her and thrice he has saved her. That should even the balance but now she too has saved _him_ once.

 

It is confusing, she wants to thank him and at the same time she wishes to be rid of him. Among these conflicted feeling there is also a part of her becoming strangely attached to him. It is alarming.

 

_Have I not learned a thing?_

 

When he had asked her to attend the wedding with him, she did not know why she said yes. Perhaps it was because she wanted to see Renly so much. It could also have been because she did not want to be alone at that particular party. After all, Jaime is a handsome man. If she showed up at the party with him, then she would be saved from having to talk with the horrible noble women that had the tendency to attend _all_ parties. Many liked to approach her only to tease her about how ugly, unfeminine and unlucky with men she was. They would not say it directly, but their comments were crueler than any disdain she had received from men in her life. If she were accompanied by a man, a handsome man like him, they would not talk to her in such a way. They might even envy her a little. She was upset with herself for thinking in such a way. That sort of thought was expected of little frivolous girls, and she was not one anymore. However the thought had moved her, it had been wrong and silly of her to think that way. She should not go, and especially not with him.

 

Her decision is immediately discarded when her father communicates to her that she in fact will have to go. He needs to travel and since he has accepted the invitation he expects her to attend in his stead. She swallows her pride and tells him she will. As if it is not painful enough, he then mentions that he expects Ser Jaime to accompany her. The list of disappointments she has caused her father is so long that she does not wish to add another. Therefore she says that yes, he will go as well. It is uncomfortable that her father is picturing Jaime as a potential husband for her.

 

“ _That creature is not even human!”_ She wants to scream but instead she takes her frustration to the training field. What she ignores about Jaime is a subject far greater than what she actually _knows_ about him. He is a mystery. There is no denying that Jaime is curious about her and whenever she asks he answers her with what seems to be the truth. At the same time, she fears this attachment and doubts how good it can actually be to be so close to such a creature.

 

The following night there is a tournament. It goes until late and Jaime seems very enthusiast about being able to be a member of the audience.

 

The Stark girl is among the public cheering for her. Other people approach when she wins. Some are really admirers and others are just confused girls that, once they realize Brienne is a woman, recoil and whisper among themselves.

 

Finally Sansa Stark comes to congratulate her. She is accompanied by many guards. Among the men there is a sullen black-haired boy that looks strikingly similar to Ned Stark. He stands quietly, observing any man that approaches Sansa, with menacing eyes. He is dressed in a slightly more refined manner than the other guards but he still behaves as if that is all he is. Sansa talks with Brienne for at least an hour, commenting on how extremely good and even graceful she is when she fights and that it is no surprise she had been the winner this night. Brienne disagrees with her, it had not been easy. The men take her seriously now and had trained very hard. Even so, Jaime told her about the bets they were making on who would win and Brienne was not among the possibilities. Sansa discards Brienne's comments, saying that Brienne is just being modest. She also mentions that her brothers might probably benefit from learning from her. Brienne politely avoids answering immediately about the matter. The idea of teaching fencing to noble boys does not amuse her and they would probably not be happy with having a freak such as herself as a teacher.

 

Jaime eventually approaches and kisses Brienne's hand. He is extremely gallant that night. Many girls seem curious, even shocked, looking from Brienne to Jaime as if they cannot believe their eyes. They are probably the most mismatched pair the girls have seen in their lives. Brienne can’t help how uncomfortable she feels but at the same time she is relieved by his presence. Uncomfortable due to how terribly handsome and dangerous he is and relieved by how the burden of being the center of attention is removed from her shoulders the moment he came to her.

 

“Those girls envy you. Not only for how good you are, but for the good company you keep,” he says with a cocky smile later that night, when they are riding back home.

 

“It was different,” she says tersely, feeling slightly annoyed by him. “You think too much about your own beauty, don't you?”

 

“I am confident about it.”

 

“It helps you get what you want. You make less effort than others. And to you it's fun, fun to try and seduce the ugly woman. Fun to make her feel she is getting a man others want”

 

“Is that what you think I am doing?”

 

“What _are_ you doing?” She says, looking at him defiantly.

 

He stares at her with angry eyes. He is a cold creature, she knew that much. But at that moment she feels extremely hot, purely due to those eyes on her. _Why, just tell me why, and then leave._ She pleads with her thoughts and eyes.He says nothing.

 

The following three days she does not see him.

 


	8. The philosopher and the pet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no way I can thank H3L enough, but thanks again for helping me so much.

That woman was impossible to handle. They had a perfectly enjoyable time at the tournament and then she had to ruin everything on the way back. The problem was, she was right. She had seen right through him. He hated it.

 

He hunted more viciously the following two nights. It annoyed him that she had discovered his plan, that she was so stubborn and so loyal. It annoyed him too that she had done so just when he was beginning to doubt the plan himself. Cersei's idea of Jaime seducing Brienne only to lure her to Cersei had been a mistake. Nothing about the situation, however, was more irritating than his desire to know about her and her whereabouts. He was plagued with questions. Was she alright? Has someone attacked her? Tried to rape her? The dark scenarios were never far from his mind.

 

 _Why did I agree to it?_ He thinks irritably. _I shouldn’t have, I should have gone with Cersei._

 

He toyed with the idea of going to Dorne, of going to Cersei and telling her that it had been a mistake. Only one thing was stopping him. He knew Cersei wanted to kill the stubborn woman, if he admitted he failed she would only come back sooner and kill Brienne herself. He thought much about it but saw no way of convincing Cersei to let her alone. Brienne is stronger than most women, even most men, but Cersei's strength is greater so long as she isn't starved.

 

The outcome would be unfavorable for Brienne. She would end in a pool of blood while Cersei, in all her glory, stands next to her smiling victoriously. He tries to picture another outcome of such an encounter but that image keeps coming back with only slight, often more terrifying, variations.

 

What could he possibly do to stop her?

 

These thoughts overwhelm him so much that he almost fails to notice that someone has arrived at his mansion. Though they have their Rock Castle, they siblings keep other manses in different parts of the continent. It is useful whenever they have the urge to travel.

 

“Dear brother, I am surprised to find you here. I heard that you found a new pet, one you like to keep _very_ close”

 

Tyrion is probably the only dwarf vampire in the world. After his transformation many of his features became softer, but even so he does not consider himself near the handsomest of the three siblings. To Jaime that isn’t a problem, but he knows that Tyrion sometimes complains about his appearance. He probably expected to change more, to become more attractive. Instead he had been thoroughly disappointed. Jaime was his maker and, although his brother was disappointed at first, he did not regret what he did. If he hadn't Tyrion, would have died. Cersei would have preferred it but Jaime loved his brother and couldn’t bear the thought of living without him. Besides, Tyrion had received enough disappointments during his life as a human. Jaime felt that it was the least he could do for his younger brother. He’d hoped that in this new life, his brother could find freedom and escape ridicule. Mayhaps even find love. Yet what his little brother wanted the most eluded him. Tyrion still remembered Tysha and Shae, he spoke of them often. Both had loved him passionately, but both too had preferred the sun's warm kiss to his when the time came.

 

“It might be more accurate to say I was her pet,” Jaime grumbles.

 

“Indeed you seem to enjoy that particular position.”

 

“What are you implying, little brother?”

 

“It means that you let yourself be manipulated very easily, big brother.”

 

“Is this about Cersei… _again_?”

 

“We disagree in many things, our beloved sister and I, how she treats you is just one of them,” says Tyrion, perching precariously on a tall chair. It feels strange, to be defended by his brother. He always thought Tyrion was the one mistreated by Cersei, not himself.

 

“I believe I misunderstand you.”

 

“She commands you to do what she could do on her own, Jaime. She makes you believe…you two are _exclusive_.”

 

“What?”

 

“Those festivities, the ones she’s always traveling to, many of our kind like them. There are too many people, it’s hard to spot when someone… _disappears._ Do you think only her and Taena are going?”

 

“What are you suggesting?”

 

“That she lays with others.” Jaime was suddenly too shocked for words. “After all these years you still thought that she was going to be satisfied with only you? She has even helped some of her other lovers to cross the path between humanity and into the nothingness that our lives currently are.”

 

“We never did that, we never made more. I only made you.”

 

Somehow Tyrion’s last revelation feels like a bigger treason than Cersei lying with others. The fact that she is giving birth to more vampires is much more painful than the idea of her bedding others. 

 

“ _You_ never did that, but she does.”

 

“How do you know this?”

 

“I've seen her, I was there. It took little effort to find out. She is not shy about them in Dorne.”

 

“Does she then...? You mean she lets them... Does she allow others to...” Jaime couldn’t find the words and it was pathetic. He could not even ask the questions for fear of the answers.

 

“Does she allow them to drink from her? Of course she does. Dear, _innocent_ , brother of mine.”

 

He imagines Cersei with a strange creature kissing her neck, and his beautiful lioness smiling in the mists of the greatest pleasure one can feel. The image grows and he can feel it becoming ingrained in his mind. _How long has this being going on?_ _Do I mean nothing to her?_

 

“Why are you telling me this now?”

 

“So that you can choose freely... this woman, she means something to you?”

 

“Brienne? No.”

 

“Liar, I can see she does.” Tyrion gives him a sad little smile. “You do not need to stay tied to someone who does not want you anymore. Think about it. This Brienne, I hear she is as ugly as a boar, but as loyal as a dog. You don't usually associate with honest people, people who will tell you the truth. Dear brother, it may be good for you... you might need it.”

 

Jaime feels confused, but only slightly irritated by the comment. Not long ago he would never have doubted the legitimacy of anything either of his siblings said to him. Now, he is not so sure. Not only has Tyrion revealed an aspect of Cersei he knew nothing about, but he has practically admitted he had lied to Jaime before. Tyrion and Cersei are the only ones he has any feelings for, he does not relate to the humans or other vampires. There are covens, yes, but he detests them. He is a solitary hunter. The rules and power plays hold no interest for him, he has never been able to deal with politics. Tyrion has his loyal followers and Cersei has Taena...and maybe others as well. Jaime only has Tyrion and Cersei. He has only ever had Tyrion and Cersei.

 

Tyrion and Cersei... they hate each other, the have ever since they were children, though they are more similar than they would ever care to admit. They both crave power, and they both lie with admirable perfection. Unfortunately Jaime had never expected to be a target to either of them. Despite his doubts and confusion, there is enough evidence to support what Tyrion just told him. Cersei has been inventing more and more excuses to hunt alone or with Taena. Every year there are more celebrations she wants to attend. She goes with Taena, or alone, but never with him. He has never thought about it before, sometimes he hardly even misses her. He is still so glad to merely obey her.

 

_Is she just using me?_

 

It is true that they have grown apart. As years go by they share less and less time together. He never wanted to think about it or admit it. Cersei has been a constant in his life. She is a lighthouse to guide him, his twin and his love. His world has been nothing but the sea of her hair, the light of her eyes and the sand of her skin. Now he is considering that perhaps that constant is slowly, but surely, removing itself from his life. The thought alone terrifies him.

 

The following night he returns to Brienne.


	9. The strong maid and the wretched lion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to H3L for being so patient with me and my never-ending issues and for being my beta. I decided to change some things a bit, hope this is interesting for whoever is reading this fanfic.

Strangely, Brienne missed him, and kept on looking for him after her practices. Life continued. She had her duties: the orphanage, the island, and fencing. Brienne missed those days when she was sure that her only love was fencing. Easier days when Renly was the only man she thought she wanted. Days that were not as full of doubt and danger as these were. _His closeness only forced me to become a liar._ But she couldn't forget that he had saved her. Even the days she had detested him had been easier than these.

 

She remembered another man that had also played with her, that had filled her with doubts. A man she had thought was honest, and a friend, but turned out to be nothing but a cruel joke. However much it had hurt, the realization of that particular sour truth affected _only_ her. Having Jaime near her put _her family_ in jeopardy. She would never miss that particular dark-haired man, she was glad he was as far away as he was now. However, even those days of pain were better than these without Jaime. He had left after that discussion, practically admitting that her fears were true. She was again the target of a bet, even these non-humans considered her laughing material. The difference was how threatening this bet was. In that other bet, the objective was her purity, and in this it was her life. Brienne was almost sure about it.

 

Jaime seemed to enjoy murdering others, apparently. It was not completely clear to her _how_ humans provided him with nourishment. She had not dared to ask that particular question, and was not sure she wanted to know. The times she saw him killing, it had all gone too fast. That in itself was disturbing enough, but it was not her biggest problem. It was clear he needed to kill to survive, he had said as much. What troubled her most was how he kept creeping into her thoughts and dreams. Not long ago, her dreams were a number of different situations, frequently a tournament where Renly would cheer for her and then invite her to try one of his beloved plums. Lately, the one cheering for her was Jaime. He would hug her after she won, before looking into her eyes and making her feel like she would melt. In every dream he would come closer, and closer. Last night, when his lips came just too close, she had woken up flustered. Shame, fear and another feeling she could not truly comprehend, filled her whenever she dreamed of him. If only these dreams and feelings had a physical shape, she would have fought them and banished from her forever. It was improper for a lady. And it was silly to feel…whatever it was she was starting to feel, for this creature.

 

_I am nothing but a joke to him... still, he saved me..._

 

Her battle was not only with herself, she had to manage Lady Roelle as well. There seemed to be no end to her complaints about how abruptly Lord Lannister had left. That annoying woman had tried to extract from her what feat of stupidity she had done to scare off such a fantastic candidate. Whenever Brienne was home, she would follow her around and remind her of her duty as the only daughter of Lord Selwyn and how much she had disappointed him already. Brienne said nothing. She was tired of lying. Lady Roelle mentioned she would write a letter to Lord Selwyn about this event, but Brienne knew it was an empty threat. Her father was too busy to have to deal with such simple matters.

 

Jaime had been right about the unrest. The king was very ill and had no heir. Lady Lyanna had never been able to conceive a child. After the war many years ago, she had barely survived, and continued confinement had taken its toll on her. Many had advised the king against marrying her, but he’d refused to hear them. King Robert said he loved her. Whenever Brienne had been able to see them in public, he still looked at her as if she was the most beautiful creature in all of creation. The queen looked stern though. It was rumored that the king was not a faithful man. It was also rumored that Lady Lyanna favored the company of her sword, rather than the company of the king. Her niece seemed to love her aunt quite a lot. Lady Sansa had mentioned at the tournament that her aunt was very good with the sword. Lady Lyanna and Lord Robert's was an arranged marriage, and even Brienne knew that many of those were loveless. And if the king loved the queen, it was an unrequited love, which was not a new concept to Brienne. She could see that the queen looked the king in the same way she looked at the crowd. There was no fondness in those eyes. She was sometimes guiltily glad to have been able to escape her engagements, unlike the Lady Lyanna. Had any one of them succeeded, she would have been forced to wear dresses and have children. She wondered if the rumors were true, if the queen missed those days when she wasn't wedded, when she was not forced to be a lady.

 

Whatever Lady Lyanna had wanted, the nobles had cared nothing about it.

 

Lord Selwyn had told her that a council was formed to discuss the potential heir to the crown. Apparently not many favored Lord Stannis, but there was also doubt about Lord Renly's capacities.

 

Lord Renly...

 

 _What if he becomes the king?_ Not long ago Brienne would have fantasized about being the one supporting him in such a task. However, she thought it would have been too much for her. She did not want to be a Queen. She had just wanted to be near Renly, and the day after tomorrow he was going to get married. A week ago she would have been able to convince herself that the tears that were now flooding her eyes were for him, but at that moment another caused them. She blinked back the wetness and examined her surroundings. 

 

That night really was beautiful. A full moon kissed her garden, illuminating it with such strength that candles were unnecessary. Hesitating, she finally opened the door to the balcony. _He can come if he wants now, what difference does it make if I go out?_ But she knew he was not coming. It pained her with such intensity that it and made her cry even more. _Why am I crying? He is a monster, and he left as I wanted him to do._ Furious with herself, she dried her tears with her hands harshly, punishing her treacherous eyes.

 

“You are going to hurt your face like that”

 

Startled she backed into her bedroom immediately, only to remember how useless that action was now.

 

“You’re still afraid of me?”

 

“Wouldn't I be stupid not to?” She couldn't see his face but something about his posture made her notice there was something different about him. He always seemed proud, chest forward, shoulders back and confidence in every step he took. Now, it seemed all that pride and confidence had left him.

 

“Why are you crying?”

 

 _Even his voice seems odd_ she thought.

 

“It was a hard day,” she mumbled at the floor. _If he can read eyes, he better not read mine now._

 

“Is that all?” He took a step towards her and she took an answering step back.

 

“Yes,” she said, keeping her eyes fixed at her feet.

 

“I’ve never seen you cry over a hard day before.”

 

“Maybe you do not know me that well.” _He has only just arrived and already he is irritating me._

 

“It might be true, maybe I do not know anyone that well,” he said in a sad tone. He went in, skirting her, and sat on a chair near her bed. More than sat, he collapsed onto it.

 

“Are you unwell?” She risked looking at his face. He did not seem injured, but he looked defeated. He was paler than anyone she had ever met but it somehow suited him. At this moment, however, the paleness did not make him more attractive. Jaime looked as someone who had just lost everything. Brienne didn't know if it was part of her imagination but she would have sworn that at this moment it was perfectly believable that he was centuries old.

 

“I thought that I knew her, I’ve never been without her”

 

“Who?”

 

“Cersei.”

 

“What happened to you?”

 

Jaime told her about this woman, about how long they had been together, that she had been his partner and his lover. He even told her the woman had been his sister, once, when they were humans. Then, he told her about this woman’s betrayal. Initially, she was repulsed, revolted by his confession. But Jaime gave her no time to reply, he kept on talking. It seemed that once he started, he could not stop until he finished. Jaime continued telling Brienne his story and through his words, and by their intensity, she realized how he felt.

 

He had been devoted to this _Cersei_.

 

Whatever the situation, he had honestly loved her. He had been so consumed and absorbed by her, he had made himself blind to her flaws. Jaime did not even blame her. He blamed himself for rejecting what was clearly happening. He blamed himself for wanting to be so much with her that he had closed himself to the world and suffocated her. The fantasy was over now, his world had crumbled into nothingness, and he felt lost.

 

She knew how much unrequited love and being used could injure and hurt. Both occasions had been painful for her, but she had survived. Yes, she had cried alone, but she’d moved on. Even then, the intensity of her feelings seemed to be a dying candle in comparison to the devastating potency of Jaime's pain. Brienne had never met anyone so dependent. It was hard enough to understand such a horrible thing as incest, nevertheless killing seemed worse. At least he had managed to kill only guilty men. In a manner of sorts she was slowly making peace with this aspect of him, so this other revelation should not revolt her so. Besides, she remembered reading that in other times, incest was not unusual and noble families practiced it to keep the bloodline pure. It was probably that Jaime originally belonged to those times if he was truly as old as he made it seem.

 

Other books had also taught her that a man's sins grow, as one grows older. Jaime had enough time in his life to accumulate a long trail of sins. Still, he seemed to struggle with being a tool for justice. However horrifying his methods were, she had to admit that to herself. This creature, this man, came from a different time. There was much about him she would never understand. Nevertheless, he was here, opening his life and secrets to her. And he seemed so lost. She felt strangely sorry for him, and caressed his hair while he poured his soul out to her.

 

“I am such a fool”

 

“You could not know”

 

“Yes, I could. It was obvious. The worst part is that sometimes I do not even realize when she's gone. She's gone so often now...we have grown apart, but I clung to her too much. I suffocated her”

 

Brienne did not know what to say, he continued. “I never tried looking for someone else. I always thought we would be together.”

 

He stood abruptly and dragged his chair to the balcony and collapsed into it again when he got there.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“I miss the sun. I have not seen it in ages. In a few hours it will be dawn, I can wait.”

 

“You can't see the sun, what are you talking about?” Her voice was quiet but strained, verging on panicked.

 

“I have lived for too long, I've seen too much. Humans, life, it is always the same. One mistake being repeated endlessly, one after another. Not even new mistakes, the same ones committed by previous generations. Life is wasted. No one learns a thing. Humans fight over chairs, over a stupid garment to decorate their heads. Life is a cycle of wasted effort. What one generation achieves, the next one forgets, and so they lose it. People of the same ideals fighting in opposite camps, for what?” he laughed sadly. “You know, some had tried to intervene, some of my kind, and for what? If you take the head of an evil king, soon another will come to take his place, and he might even be worse than the previous one. It's like fighting a Hydra, cutting one head only creates two more. Do you think I make a difference when I slay a criminal?”

 

Brienne nodded. ‘ _Yes, you do!’_ she wanted to say, but he did not give her time.

 

“The only thing that kept me sane was Cersei, knowing that I had her, that she needed me. That we were together, we were a team. It was us, just us, and the world could be dammed for all I cared. Having no one... knowing I mean nothing to her anymore...what is my purpose? Others of my kind have embraced the sun for less than this, others that had love, luxury, and happiness. Tysha, Shae, and so many others. Maybe I should as well. You would get rid of me, and Cersei would be rid of her burden”

 

“Don't be absurd.” Losing her patience she went to him and dragged him inside, he barely resisted. “Are you honestly telling me you are going to kill yourself over someone?” She threw him to the floor in a fit of rage.

 

“Someone? She is not just someone! She's my other half...was my other half. We've been together for decades!”

 

“She is still someone else. Do you think you have no value on your own? Of course you make a difference, had you not helped me I might have been raped and killed. I am sure you have spared others, unknowingly. Why live for someone else, if you can live for yourself? And frankly, it might be for the best to put an end to such a relationship, not only due to its nature but you were clearly obsessed and even at my age I can see that obsession is not love!” _I might be bending the truth, but he needs this._ Surprise was written in his face, whether it was over the brutality of her actions or words, she did not know. “You are unbelievable! You seem to be so strong, so confident, but one person, just one, abandons you... and you are reduced to a crying, confused, helpless baby. If you are centuries old then don't you remember how it was when you lost others? Haven't you lost your father, your mother, your friends? If you could overcome that, how can you not survive this particular loss?”

 

For one moment he seemed as if he was not there, staring right through her and into another place. Then a shadow of fury passed over his features. It scared her and she cursed herself for not carrying her sword. Finally he looked at her again, with a stare of pure loss and despair. The shadow was gone, as if it had never been there. Although it pained her, it also relieved her.

 

“I don't know... if I am not with her, then where should I be?” Jaime said, in a pitiful voice.

 

“That is for you to decide on your own, don’t ask me.”

 

He leaned up from the floor, supporting himself with his elbows, and stared at her. Anyone who did not know them could have imagined Brienne a bigger threat than Jaime at that precise moment. She had tossed him like if he was a bag of potatoes, but it was only because he had not tried to fight her. He had let her. She was determined and in control, while any strength he seemed to have possessed abandoned him completely.

 

“Could I stay here in the meantime?”

 

She doubted that it was a good idea. “I'll take you to your room”

 

“No, here”

 

“No, you can't stay in this room,” her heart skipped a beat at the thought as she regarded him.

 

“Please, I do not want to stay alone.”

 

He looked terrible, anguished and sad, but she doubted her own good sense when she heard herself reply. “Only if you promise me, promise you will not harm my family, nor anyone who resides on our property.”

 


	10. The Lion's oath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of past, a lot of their present, human problems, non-human problems and a private discussion between Jaime and Brienne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to H3L for her patience and for being a wonderful beta, I don't think this would have made much sense without her.

It was not a safe path for his mind to tread, but Brienne's words took him there anyway. One thought lead to the other, and so he remembered his mother. The day he lost her was the same one he gained Tyrion. He remembered the first friend he saw die, then the war, so much death... then he remembered the day he thought was his last. Cersei was dying, blood flooding from her belly, a knife in her stomach, a sword in his, but even as they were bleeding, with his last strength he crawled to reach her and tried grab hold her hand. She extended it towards him when she understood what he was doing.

 

“We came to this world together,”he said with difficulty, once he finally held her in his grasp.

 

“And we will leave it together,” she replied before exhaling.

 

As Jaime closed his eyes he thought he would for the last time. _She_ did not allow it.

 

White, long, and wavy hair over a heart-shaped face, a smirk always in her perfect bowed lips, her strange eyes and a pendant with a three-headed dragon, was all he remembered of that enigmatic woman. _The Dragon Lady_. That was what she had called herself.

 

“In one way or another, I have always cared about my family,” she had said smiling at them, once they had recovered consciousness.

 

At first they had been afraid of her, even when she kept calling them “my children”. She had the air of one who fears and promises nothing. She could be smiling one second, and tearing someone's head from their neck the next. Jaime remembered his surprise and confusion about her for those few days. He’d told Cersei he had seen her moving as a lizard moves, climbing buildings, more than once. His sister wouldn't believe him. The fear that this was her destiny made her deny it, she didn't want to become a reptile, _a dragon_. It was already too complicated for them to understand, how they could still be alive. It was hard to accept that they were, in fact, not precisely alive as it were. Whatever they did, they tried their best to read their maker, to avoid anything that could move her to anger. But the Dragon Lady had expected nothing from them, and had left them to their own devices after less than a month of company, after imparting a couple of useful advices. She seemed to have abruptly lost interest.

 

“The South had suddenly become more appealing,” she said, “a little child I care about is there.” She told them on the last night they shared together. It took time to get used to the idea of what they had become, to understand their new strengths, their new urges and their fatal weakness. But it was easier for his sister, and had taken Cersei far less time than it took him, after the Dragon Lady’s departure.

 

They had been given another chance. And though he could not remember much about the first days of his new life, he could easily imagine it from what he saw afterwards, with Tyrion.

 

Tyrion. He shouldn't think on his brother, but he couldn't avoid it. The images kept coming, until there it was, the day his brother Tyrion was the one on the verge of death. There was another in the room... _father,_ _ **our**_ _father._ That memory, just the word even, that day, was their Pandora's Box, a forbidden recollection. They had avoided it all those years. He forced himself out of the black bottomless hole that those uninvited thoughts opened in him every time. He had to concentrate. Losing Cersei was painful enough without also opening that box of pain. It needed to remain closed.

 

Brienne was affected by his disconnection, he could sense it. Her muscles tensed, her heartbeats became uneven, and her fingers were twitching and searching for a weapon. All the tension dissipated once he returned to the moment, and looked at her again. She seemed to sympathize with him. Perhaps he used this in his favor. Perhaps there was a part of him that had listened to Tyrion. Perhaps she did mean _something_ more to him than he wanted to admit. His pleas had been real, in any case. He really did not want to be alone now that his life had shattered. Her presence had a soothing effect on Jaime, he only needed to lie next to her, to see her move while she slept, and he felt a little better. So every night he lie beside her, listening to her heart, and every morning he snuck back to the guest room before dawn, to keep the servants from doubting their lady's honor.

 

She could be harsh, yes, but she was also gentle. Sometimes she was still tense around him, or occasionally she treated him like a little boy, forgetting what he was. How _old_ he was. But he felt better there, with her, than he would feel anywhere else. Without her, he would have let himself burn, he would have opened his arms to the sun. Instead, she became his sun.

 

He still thought it best to hunt alone before meeting her at her fencing club. He went as far away as possible, but tried to come back fast. Many men still resented Brienne, and he couldn't bear the thought of seeing her injured by any one of them. Brienne might be strong, but many of these men were cunning. They could try something against her again, something underhanded.

 

They weren't the only threat. Other men, common men, were growing bolder each day. There was division among the nobles and among the common people. Some were clearly in favor of Renly’s claim, while others declared their loyalty to Stannis. And then there were some others still, who were against them both men. Many among the common folk insisted they needed the Targaryens back. They just didn't know about any that had survived, unlike Jaime. If only King Robert had had an heir all this confusion could have been avoided. Even the wedding on the next day had a different purpose now. Jaime could tell that it was going to be a sort of declaration of favor. The fact that Brienne was going to attend indicated clearly that her father supported Renly. It was amazing how the complexities of politics escaped her. She only wanted to please her father and did not consider what that simple action, attending a wedding, truly represented. He had heard that the council remained undecided on the matter of the succession and Jaime knew the streets would remain unsafe for Brienne and other noble ladies, regardless of strength or size, until a decision was reached.

 

Instead of politics, Brienne seemed more worried about more domestic issues. His return had caused a little commotion with the maids, especially with the Lady Roelle. Had he not promised that he would not hurt anyone in that house, he would have preferred to separate the annoying woman's head from her body. Nothing Brienne did could please the woman. Despite his best efforts, she was casting doubt about Brienne's chastity, insinuating that the only reason a man such as himself would approach her, would be to take her maidenhead. Before leaving to hunt, the moment the sun had set, he pretended to be interested in the many books housed in Evenfall Hall’s library, in order to socialize with some of the maids that were roaming about. He knew which ones were less than chaste from their behavior around him, it was slightly different. He also knew how his own kind affected humans, especially those with _sexual_ experience, and he used it to his advantage. This reality had always been a little disgusting to him. It was, yet another, unfair advantage, but in this instance he allowed it. The maids were excited about the upcoming wedding, discussing how they would love to be there and see the Lady Margaery. Discussing how graceful she was and how they all expected she would be a mother soon.

 

One thing lead to another and, after some subtle talk on the matter one of them, the boldest of the saucy girls finally asked him, “what is that you like in a woman, my lord?”

 

“Innocence, which is exactly what a particular lady I know possesses.” His answer took them aback and they stared at each other, confused.

 

“A woman, not a daughter,” replied the same girl who had asked the question, at the exact moment Lady Roelle entered the room.

 

“What is the meaning of this? What makes you believe you have the right to be so familiar with our guest? Leave his lordship alone, and I better never catch you all behaving in such a shameful manner again,” said Lady Roelle, in her most commanding voice. The maids left immediately, mumbling apologies and staring, red-faced at the floor.

 

“My apologies, my lord. I will make sure that girl leaves this house tonight,” said she to Jaime before turning to leave.

 

“Miss Roelle,” he said, causing her to turn and face him, observing him impatiently. “I should be the one apologizing, I started the conversation after all... besides being disrespectful to the lords and ladies of this house has not gained anyone dismissal before, why the exception?” She stood frozen, before opening her mouth, but nothing came out of it. He smiled triumphantly and added, “I do not appreciate what it is being said about my lady in her own house, I doubt that the Evenstar would disagree with me. Lady Brienne is an honest woman who deserves respect, _especially_ in her own castle. Does this present a problem for you?”

 

“Of course not, my lord,” said Lady Roelle, her rage more than evident.

 

“Good,” Jaime replied in an intimidating tone. Lady Roelle's eyes widened and she finally understood that his was not an empty threat. From that day onwards, she never spoke ill of Brienne ever again.

 

Apart from these human matters, he had even more pressing ones to worry about. He was running out of time. If Tyrion was right, and Cersei had different lovers, could she have sent one to spy on him? He hadn't felt any other presence except Tyrion's in the last weeks and he hoped to come up with an idea to help Brienne escape his sister, but he was still unsuccessful. One way or the other he had to tell her, to warn her. But how could he do so without hurting her? He felt too relived next to her, he couldn't lose her. He wouldn’t. Initially he had only said it to annoy her, but lately he wanted to know what she truly thought of him kissing her. It was folly, madness, and he shouldn't have thought about Brienne in that way. He had only just confessed to her how much he had loved Cersei, how much it had hurt realizing he had lost her. What would Brienne think of him? How could he explain to her that he actually had felt an interest in her from the very beginning? That he had been too idiotic to admit it then. Even if he told her, Brienne would probably think he was playing with her, it might hurt her. The curiosity consumed him, though.

 

That night, while in bed, he asked her. “Do you still think I am a coward?” _What am I doing? I shouldn’t ask. I don’t want to know._

 

“If you plan on killing yourself again, then yes.” It was dark but he could see her as clearly as if it had been daylight. She was frowning. It was quite probably that she considered him weak. He disliked that, and had to correct her even if it would make her uncomfortable.

 

“No, I mean for trying to kiss you, when you were a guest at the House of the Starks. Would you have detested it?”

 

“I would have,” she said, but he could hear the tiny changes in her body that indicated she might doubt her answer. Her breathing and her pulse became slightly faster, her toes and fingers curled, and she swallowed. All of those things that would have gone unperceived, had he been a normal human, screamed to him that she was not being truthful. He was glad now that he wasn't a mortal man.

 

“Would you now?” Her widening eyes were all the answer she gave him. Her heartbeats increased in rhythm. “Would you hate me if I kissed you... now?” He insisted, begging her to respond.

 

“I should sleep,” she whispered, and she gave her back to him.

 

Jaime touched her neck, very lightly, and she shivered beneath his finger. Slowly he advanced to her shoulder, then her back, then up again to her neck. With a swift action he pushed her to the bed and placed himself on top of her.

 

“Would you?” He caressed her lips with his thumb. Her heart was beating so fast, pounding like a drum. He thought even a mortal man could have heard it then, he was sure. She repressed a sigh and bit her lower lip, her hands holding the sheets as if her life depended on it. “Just tell me, it is a simple question”

 

“Stop this,” she pushed his hand from her face.

 

“That is not an answer.”

 

“Yes, it is. You think you can just take things by force?”

 

“I am not forcing you.” His declaration made her stop, as though she saw the truth in his statement. He could hear her want and fear pounding in his ears as she observed him.

 

“You were thinking about it,” she replied finally. “Just tell me something, why me? I look funny to you? Freakish, maybe?”

 

“You misunderstand me.”

 

“I don't. It may be you have a bet with someone, that you can seduce me. It wouldn't be the first time,” she sounded desperate but at the same time... hopeful... she wanted him to tell her the truth, but there was part of her that wanted to believe he wouldn't bet about her in such a way.

 

“Are you comparing me with those bastards that assaulted you?” He had to tell her the truth, tell her about Cersei and his reason for approaching her, but he was reluctant to do it _._

 

“Now you’re not answering. _Why me_? It's a bet, isn't it?”

 

He lay down next to her and looked at the ceiling. She knew. It was useless to deny it. He no longer wanted to lie. “Cersei wanted you”

 

“Finally, the truth. Why?” Though she managed to keep any emotions from her voice, her eyes were full of hurt.

 

“You smell amazingly…tasty” _Why am I telling her this? She will only become more desperate, she will hate me._

 

“And why didn't she come to kill me herself?” He could tell that she was holding in her tears, though her face was twitching with the strain of it.

 

“I am terribly sorry, Brienne. She will come at some point, now that I have failed her.”

 

“So I am a dead woman, then... at least it is just me,” she smiled but it was a mirthless smile, and she gave her back to him again.

 

“I don't want you to die,” he admitted to the back of her neck.

 

She turned and looked at him. “And how can you prevent it?”

 

“We can escape.”

 

“ _We?_ ” her incredulous tone was a slap in his face.

 

“Go somewhere else, I can keep you safe.”

 

“And _you_ are going to leave your sister?” She continued with that tone, cutting him with her lack of faith.

 

“She was going to leave me, now I know and I can leave her first.”

 

“You would leave her, and cart me around in order to annoy her? Forgive me, but I do not want to be the toy in the disputes of monsters. What if this woman decides to hurt my family in retaliation, Jaime? No, I will not run, and especially not with you.” She turned around again, hiding her face.

 

“I know you cannot believe me now, but I honestly do not want you to die. I may have thought otherwise, some time ago but now...”

 

“What now? What changed?” She said into her pillows, her face still hidden from him.

 

 _What indeed?_ He lay quiet, staring at the ceiling until an idea came to mind. He left the bed, exited the room, but was back soon enough. She was seated in the bed blinking, and looking confused. His speed was something she had not witnessed at so close a distance before, and she was visibly shaken. He kneeled in front of her bed and extended his arms, her gift held delicately in his hands.

 

“I meant to give this to you earlier, as a token of my gratitude for saving me. As I am now, I have no use for it, but I know you could, my lady.”

 

Blinking and gasping, she took the sword in her hands. “Why? I don't understand, this seems... ancient, expensive.”

 

“It belonged to my father. He gave it to me... many years ago.” _Concentrate, think of her._ “I'm afraid I did not put it to good use, but in your hands I am sure it will only bring justice.” _Yes, think of Brienne, not the past, not that past... even its name should be something else, for her..._

 

“I cannot accept this, this probably costs more than our island,” she proclaimed and she pushed the sword back to him. He rejected it.

 

“Oathkeeper is yours now, my lady.” _That is a good name and it suits her,_ he thought, and continued. “I will not take it back. This represents my gratitude, my respect, and my esteem for you. I have no more lies lurking behind sweet words, and I promise you no more mischief. You are strong and you can protect yourself, but as long as I have strength in my body I am not letting you die.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's see if someone can tell me who Jaime's maker is :) Hope this was enjoyable.


	11. The wedding guests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Renly and Lady Margaery's luxurious wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm so grateful to H3L for being such a nice beta I can't even explain. This would have probably been boring without her help.

She was probably losing her mind. Allowing a monster into her home was one thing, going to a wedding with one was madness. Brienne knew what to do in order to kill him. She didn’t even think it would be hard. When he slept – if he slept at all – in the guest room, where he escaped to at some point in the night after leaving her room, she could open all doors and let the sunlight in. So easy, she could do it. But she didn't. It was not honorable to kill a guest, even one such as him. _He saved me, but he also confessed his plot to murder me. What am I doing? Why do I believe in him?_

 

It was even more difficult after he gave her the sword. It was beautiful and strange, the blade was red and it was from a material she did not know, but that seemed to be very strong and resistant. The baldric was richly decorated with lion motives and encrusted rubies. _His own father's sword_. And he had sworn an oath on it to keep her alive. _A token of his esteem for me_. Cursing herself for being that vulnerable, she threw cold water to her face to stop her blushing like an idiot.

 

Why did she believe in him? When they met he was very clear in his intention to kill her, and sometimes too in his intention to bed her. What was not clear was why she feared the latter possibility more than the former. It seemed it was not long ago that she was frightened and repulsed by him, but things had changed between them. She couldn't erase from her mind the look of admiration in Jaime's face when he watched her in her practices. How he had defended her from those attackers, and in front of Lord Tarly. She couldn't forget how they fought and how he came back to her, and all of his confessions in the dark. All those memories danced, confused and jumbled, in her mind. And then there was the sword, her sword now. She couldn't make peace with the fact that she was strangely drawn to Jaime Lannister. Despite what he was and what she had seen him do, what he could do, she cared about him. Probably more than she should, though she couldn't quite admit it to herself yet. Instead she had taken her frustrations to the training club. The other members of the club were puzzled by her ferocity but it hadn’t been enough. In the end her confusion had led her to forget her manners with Jaime, more than once.

 

At least Lady Roelle was calmer now, and disinclined to speak of Brienne in the manner she had following Jaime’s original departure. Yet in the morning, when Brienne announced that no one should disturb Lord Lannister, Roelle had looked suspiciously at her. The lady had insisted in knowing more details, but Brienne had decided it was best to keep it simple. He was back, and that was all. Even then, she heard how the maids and Lady Roelle spoke about lover's quarrels, and so on. They couldn't be more mistaken. She did not know what she and Jaime were, but they were definitely not lovers. If anything they were both creatures with a tremendous tendency to attract bad luck. Surprisingly, she had heard no more rumors about them after she returned that night, with Jaime by her side. From then onwards, it seemed to her that Lady Roelle avoided approaching her whilst Jaime was nearby.

 

The morning after, on the day of Lord Renly's wedding, Lady Roelle entered Brienne's room quite early with a package, actually waking her up. Brienne was startled and almost reached for Oathkeeper, before realizing it was just her. Lady Roelle observed her, sternly, but at the same time surprised. Then she walked to open the curtains with such anger it seemed they had wronged her. As soon as she did that, the lady turned again to stare at Brienne in bed. Brienne frowned. _Did she expect to find Jaime here?_

 

Visibly annoyed and disappointed, she indicated that her _ladyship_ 's dress was ready. Leaving it on the table near the window, the woman stared at her for a couple of more minutes, as if trying to decipher a mystery. It was terribly uncomfortable. Brienne knew she must look worse than ever, her hair was a mess, her face was probably marked with cushion's lines, and there were probably circles around her eyes. Finally, the strange woman sighed and left the room. Brienne arose from bed and went to examine the dress she would be made to wear that evening. It was delicate, refined, and beautiful. It was a proper dress, for a proper lady. It would look absurd on her. Had she only been able to avoid this compromise, she mused, she might have stood a chance of enjoying herself.

 

Jaime and her still went together to the wedding. She had promised that to her father, and she had to keep her promises. Astonishingly, it was all she could think when she saw Jaime. The complex red and golden embroidery of Jaime's clothes was breath-taking and they suited him like a glove. She was, surely, not even close to resembling a beautiful lady. Her blue dress couldn’t make her lovely, nothing could. Instead, it only made her feel fragile and vulnerable. It was easier to move in a man's clothes and Brienne silently cursed the person who had dictated that women should wear such uncomfortable and useless things as those dresses. Obviously whoever it was didn't expect women to be able to do much. The dresses worn by noble ladies were too complicated for Brienne, the use of corsets underneath was mandatory because no normal woman could fit in them otherwise. The skirts could sometimes be so wide, a woman had to be careful not to throw things with it as she walked. To Brienne, noble dresses wore by ladies were nothing but layers and layers of cloth that made breathing and moving difficult.

 

An added complication were the delicate gloves she _had_ to wear. It required a particular effort not to brake them by getting them stuck somewhere, which was probably going to be very difficult considering Lord Renly's particular appreciation for stag-themed decoration and the very realistic thorny Tyrell's roses. Brienne hated roses, she had hated them since her second failed betrothal.

 

How uncomfortable her shoes were was also a distressing factor for Brienne. At least their heels were not as high as Lord Renly's. She couldn't understand how could he walk around in those. Lord Renly was shining in his elaborated attire of dark green and golden embroidery of dozen stags with emerald buttons. Had Brienne paid more attention to them, she would have noticed that his were more delicate, expensive and decorated wedding clothes than those worn by Lady Margaery, and that he was even wearing more jewelry as well.

 

The celebration was beautiful and opulent, all the ladies looked graceful and the couple seemed happy, there was enough wine to flood the city. Only Brienne felt miserable. Not even Jaime's gallantry could cheer her up when he insisted that blue was a good color on her. Even the delicious peach cake tasted sour in her mouth. Dresses, parties, and noble ladies gossiping did not suit her. Luckily she had no more tears left after the other night. Still, it hurt her to see the happy couple dancing. She would have never been able to be like Lady Margaery Tyrell. The girl was grace and beauty personified. She had brown eyes and hair, perfect skin, long lashes and a kind smile. Brienne would have never been able to move around in a dress like hers. The bodice was refined, decorated with roses on one side and stags on the other; while the skirt was long with panniers that were probably 2 meters long and a very long train. Yet Lady Margaery wore it with grace without tripping, not even once. Her sweet smile never waned and she had only nice words for anyone who congratulated her. The curly-haired lady did not grow tired however many times she had to do it, and made everyone feel important. Noble ladies had nothing but praise in regards to Margaery. However, all the niceties faded when it came to talking about Brienne. The way they kept on throwing subtle, hurting comments at her was irritating. They would not say it to her face. They just _casually_ discussed her with each other as they passed near.

 

“What wonders do beasts achieve nowadays, they manage to force noblemen to attend respectable ceremonies with them.”

 

“The poor thing must be terrified, one need no reminder that more than once this ugly creature has tasted men's blood. He is surely afraid for his life.”

 

Had they thrown a real and honest threat at her she would have been able to defend herself as she knew, and been done with their charade. Jaime only laughed at the reference, but his sinister eyes promised all sort of horrors that might soon befall those ladies. The air near Jaime grew slightly colder and it made her shiver. He followed them with his eyes, and was about to do so with the rest of his body, when Brienne held him tighter and stared at him intently, forcing him to stay by her side. The silly women were in part right, but about the wrong person. Jaime turned to look at Brienne, as if wanting to insist on silencing her detractors. Brienne sighed audibly and shook her face decisively. He looked at her annoyed.

 

“What crimes have they committed?” she whispered nervously to him.

 

He leaned closer and for a moment she couldn't breathe. Images of her dreams crossed her mind and she was about to push him away when he merely whispered to her ear “This is the third time they have offended you, at least let me play their own game.”

 

Looking intently at the green and golden decoration in the table near them, even with the offensive roses, she thought it was best to concentrate on them when she replied. “You would not do such a thing.” And she prayed to the heavens that he would think her fear was for the life of the ladies not because his mouth had been so close to hers.

 

Jaime leaned back and stared at her, as a child does when his mother forbids him to buy candy. Then he smiled seductively. “Would you do me the honor of dancing this piece with me, my lady?”

 

“Oh no, please,” she dismissed him, releasing her hold and almost pushing him away from her to make her statement clearer. A couple of ladies stared at her alarmingly and shook their heads in disapproval, but at that point Brienne really didn't care.

 

“Why not?” he said, still smiling like if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

 

“I do not feel like it, Jaime.” She gestured at other ladies across the room, “go to them. They surely want to dance with you,” and she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

 

“But I want to dance with you, Brienne.”

 

“Must you torture me? In this room I am the least suited to dance, it is not an activity that brings me joy.”

 

“You aren't the least suited, my lady. Besides, the last time we danced wasn't a joyful situation. I wish for us to try and make new memories. And I know how to dance, I can help you. Let me lead you.” With that he extended a hand to her.

 

In situations such as this one, it was so difficult sometimes to remember he was a monster and not a little boy, not a man. “Just one,” she conceded with a half-smile.

 

One became two, then three, before she lost count. He behaved very nicely. He even made her laugh with one hand on her back, and the other holding hers. With his intense stare and easy smile, for some minutes she even forgot where she was. The world around them became blurry. For the moments that he held her, Brienne felt that in another time - in another life perhaps - she could almost be a lady. Not a graceful lady, only one that was accepted, that was not questioned but appreciated. It was nice to feel that way, for a while at least. In that brief moment she was not a freak, the only thing that mattered were herself and Jaime. And in that place, it didn't matter that she couldn't comply with the standards of what a woman _should_ be.

 

A young woman was talking to them, she realized suddenly, and it brought her back to reality.

 

“Lady Brienne, I am so glad to meet you here. To think that we almost didn't come...” It was Lady Sansa, the 15 year old girl looking beautiful as ever in her silken beige and blue dress.

 

It was only then that Brienne noticed that the music was over and the musicians where re-arranging their instruments. How long had they been dancing to nothing? She started feeling embarrassed but replied the girl. “I am pleased to meet you again as well, Lady Sansa. This is Lord Lannister”

 

“Pleased to meet you,” Sansa gave a small curtsy, “this is my sister, Lady Arya.” The girl was probably a year younger than her sister, but she was very different. Sansa was red-haired, graceful and as beautiful any lady would be expected to be. Her little sister was pretty, true, but in a different, wilder way. Almost like a young, restless boy. She looked more like her father than Sansa.

 

“My sister told me how you saved her,” the little girl said eagerly.

 

“My lady is very strong,” said Jaime to the young girl.

 

“Where do you train? For how long have you been training? Do they allow girls there?” Arya asked almost screaming, all of her propriety lost.

 

The girls talked enthusiastically with Brienne for some time. It was nice to be admired for a change. They invited Brienne and Jaime for dinner the following day, which she accepted appreciatively. Little Arya said that she had never heard of a woman being able to fight as well as Brienne, with the exception of her aunt. The little girl insisted that Lady Lyanna was a better swordman than the King himself. Excited and unable to stop talking, she even insisted that the rumors were true, that her aunt preferred training to the King. Lady Sansa tried to reprimand her sister, insisting that she had said something improper. Arya shrugged and continued talking about her aunt and how much Brienne reminded her of Lady Lyanna. It had surprised Brienne. She thought it was hard to imagine that such a beautiful woman could in any way be compared to herself. She had always thought the rumors were exaggerations, things her father told her out of love, to make her feel better. Now, both her nieces had mentioned the Queen’s love for fencing. However intrigued she was, it was very unlikely that she would ever be able to meet the Queen personally to gauge for herself.

 

She was again, a bit sorry for the Queen. If even her young niece could see Lady Lyanna was not happy in her duties as a lady, as a Queen, it must be terribly evident. Brienne imagined that, had she been forced into such a situation, she would have also failed miserably at hiding her feelings. For the sake of her father she would one day accept the next match he made for her, but she hoped that day was far away. Those worries seemed so trivial, now that she didn't know how long she had before Cersei would finally come for her.

 

The music started again and at some point Lady Sansa was asked by a man to dance, so the girls excused themselves. After that, Brienne decided it was time to leave.

 

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Jaime asked, as she covered herself with the sheets.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Women envied you tonight, and girls admired you. I would say it was a triumph.”

 

“Yes, because I was played with. I danced with a deadly creature that enjoys toying with his food. They have no real reasons to envy me”

 

“I am not playing anymore, I told you everything.” Brienne bit her lip. She wanted to believe him, but part of her screamed that she needed to escape.

 

“How can I trust you when you admitted that you were going to lure me for your sister?”

 

“Do you honestly believe that I would come here and tell you of that plan if I did not intend to stop it? I do not want you to die. In what other way should I put it? Do you really think that I would have told you about me and Cersei, given you that sword, if you did not mean something to me, wench? You are not the brightest creature I have met, though I have been in this world for far longer than most I suppose.”

 

He had saved her, had trusted her with his worst secret. Nobody had ever been so open with her before him. It would have been nice to believe him but... she knew she shouldn't. Her previous experiences told her Lady Roelle had been right. She had told Brienne that the truth was in the looking glass. She was ugly and undesirable. Men would trick her only for her father's land, or for their own enjoyment.

 

“You are still something else... you are what you are. I will always be food for you, I can be nothing else.”

 

“No, that is not true. I do not see you like that.”

 

“I am not safe near you, my family is not safe near you.”

 

“What else do you need? I came and confessed everything! I kept my promise to you! What do you want as proof?” He said it with such conviction, with such desperation, that she felt the urge to believe him…but how?

 

“I don't know,” she said frustrated. He needed to leave her life, but the idea felt terrible to her. _I cannot... I should not feel this for him. He is_ _ **not**_ _a person, not anymore._

 

He caressed one cheek and looked at her as he climbed into bed beside her and removed his gloves. She did not dare look back at him as he laid his head on her shoulder, remaining there and not moving. When she woke up, an hour before dawn, he was still there. Part of her did not want to see him. Another part was moved by his gesture.

 

“Jaime,” she whispered, “it isn't wise for you to stay here. Yesterday Lady Roelle entered my room very early.”

 

“Did she? Is that normal?” He said it with a curious, but almost dangerous sounding, tone

 

“No, despite how much they insisted, I don't have a maid to clothe me or comb my hair. I detest the idea. And she is also the head housekeeper, it would be beneath her to come here on her own only to deliver a dress and wake me up.”

 

“Perhaps I should talk to her, clarify things.” he continued in that dangerous tone.

 

“You will not do such a thing, I think she is afraid of you already.”

 

“She's not afraid enough.”

 

“Please, Jaime, don't scare her. You already draw too much attention to yourself as it is.”

 

Jaime was extraordinarily beautiful, his eyes were green and his golden hair was long and silky but he was too pale. He looked healthy though, so that made his _human impersonation_ believable. Once, he had mentioned that this was because he was always properly fed. “For the safety of my lady” he had said, smiling. Even then, there were details that were always causing confusion among people. He was very refined and his accent sometimes sounded... strange. Brienne had already heard some of these questions. If he had truly been borne in that country, why would he had that accent? Why were his eyes such a strange shade of green? And why would he look like he did? Why was he _always_ wearing gloves? When confronted face to face to him, it seemed that due to his pleasing appearance and charming personality many disregarded or simply forgot their concerns. The moment he was gone the doubts seemed to return... it would be difficult if someone started to ask too many questions and finding the disturbing answer to them.

 

“Is that worry I hear in your tone, my lady? Are you worried about me?” he said, with that disarming smile of his. Perhaps any other lady would have given up long ago, and just succumbed to his charms and let him do as he pleased. Let him scare whoever he wanted, let him protect her, maybe even let him kiss her. Even her younger self might have done so but she was not that young girl anymore.

 

“You are helpless,” she sighed. “Avoid scaring the maids, I beg you. They are loyal to my father and are probably only concerned about their future with me.”

 

“As you wish,” said he shrugging, then he grabbed her hand and kissed it. “See you tonight,” he said smiling even more.

 

Avoiding his eyes, she bit her lips and wished with all her might that she wasn't blushing. Of course she was, and of course he could see it. At some point she didn't feel his hand anymore and dared, slowly, to look where he was supposed to be. He wasn't there anymore, as she knew he wouldn’t be. He had left the room so quietly, and so fast, that she hadn't felt when he did. Despite how odd it was, she smiled briefly. She was starting to get used to his ways.

 

It was difficult to think clearly in the following days. The sole existence of these creatures made no sense to her, and the fact that two of them seemed obsessed with her was beyond absurd. If she would have read this somewhere she would have laughed at the idea of a girl like her attracting the attention of such monsters. Having it happening to her in real life was far from fun.

 

She had thought about different solutions, never going out at night and moving to a house where none of these two had been invited, but how long could she live like that? How long until they charmed someone into inviting them inside? She could not hide forever, but she was sure she was not going to go down without a fight. Besides, if she did not confront that creature it was likely going to put her family in danger. No, she was going to make them kill her. But she was going to hurt this Cersei, somehow, before she died.

 

_I will become stronger, I will face her. I have to._

 

And Jaime kept sleeping in the same bed with her. Except for that time after the wedding, the moment she woke up he was no longer there. It made her feel uncomfortable, but not for the right reasons. The empty space next to her, where he would sleep, made her feel that her bed was too big for her. She was actually becoming painfully aware of his absence during the mornings. That was the most absurd part of it all, thinking of him sleeping beside her. He did not really sleep. He just lay there, hugging her. Sometimes he would caress her hair, neck, or even her lips. It made her shiver, and though she told herself it was from the cold, she knew that was not true. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 meters = 6.562 feet  
> I'm used to meters, so you will have to forgive me for using them here.  
> Hope this was fun!


	12. The woes and joys of the lion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Queen Lyanna and Cersei share. Past and present conflicts and a bit of calm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, all thanks and praise to H3L for her wonderful help and nice words. This might be a bit disturbing, hope it won't bother you too much. After all, this is a mixture of Westeros with vampires, many things can go wrong.

After some days he got used to this new bed. Jaime didn't need to. It didn't matter being that he didn't really sleep. He only lay there during the mornings, in a state of semi-consciousness. Of course, his room was locked and all the curtains were closed, he always checked it before going to rest. To his advantage, every day the hours of sunlight were decreasing, allowing him more freedom. The Starks had invited them to their house in the countryside after they had shared a dinner with them. It was very much in the north, a cold but still beautiful place. The country house was bigger than the one they had at King's Landing, and they called it Winterfell. Despite how solemn and stern their parents were, the Stark children were warm enough. 

 

Despite her initial reluctance, Brienne enjoyed teaching one of the younger Stark children how to fence. Apart from her and Arya, the party was soon joined by another fierce lady. Jaime had taken the time to observe Lyanna Stark diligently the night she fought with Brienne. 

 

It had come about when the Queen had arrived with her guards two days after Jaime and his lady did. It had been odd, the king was sick and it was expected that the Queen would have remained with her husband for the moment. Queen Lyanna seemed to disagree with the idea. She said she needed to rest from the life of court. Not only had she abandoned her convalescing husband, she had also left her dresses behind. Most of the time she wore gray clothing with thick fur about her shoulders, a true Stark, she was. She didn't even bother to try on any of the dresses Lady Catelyn had offered, she seemed to be perfectly comfortable in breeches, jacket and boots. The black-haired beauty had observed Brienne with the children and one night offered to be her partner. Brienne was obviously doubtful and embarrassed but Queen Lyanna dismissed her fears and launched her attack, forcing Brienne to react. Soon both were dancing comfortably enough. The girls had not lied. Their aunt was very gifted in that particular art. She seemed to find true happiness in it as well. Moments before she had looked morose and hostile, but as she fought with Brienne she was smiling and almost shining. Neither could defeat the other. 

 

Jaime couldn't avoid how his memories of her invaded him. The past flooded inside him. He should have left but curiosity pinned him to his place instead, to that branch in that tree, as if he had taken root there. He had just come back from hunting, and was hiding from prying eyes. It had become a need of his, to observe Brienne, but what he wanted to know now was if the Queen found happiness at last. She was smiling, an honest smile. It could indicate that she was finally free from the ghosts of her past. He hoped that was the case.

 

At one point the Queen leaned her back to the wall, threw her furs to the floor, and in between breaths thanked Brienne. The tall blond girl blushed and thanked the Queen in turn. Placing a hand behind her face she scratched her blond hair nervously. When he met her it had barely been surpassing her ears. Now it was timidly reaching her shoulders. Her tow-colored tresses were a bird's nest, but Jaime liked it even then.

 

He thought it was funny how that innocent child was unable to hide her feelings. The curiosity in her eyes was such even the Queen laughed. Immediately after that she confessed to Brienne that she hired the best masters to continue practicing, but that all this was hidden from the King. The tone was the same one a girl used to confide in another that she had a lover. Queen Lyanna admitted that she knew that was hard to keep secrets in court, but that she had to try since her husband disagreed with this particular aspect of her fancies. Brienne stared at the floor, hiding her face with her hair, but Jaime knew that she pitied the Queen. He had heard it in her almost inaudible sigh she let escape her, none but him would have been able to hear the small exhalation. 

 

The Queen looked at Brienne and all the happiness seemed to dissolve into thin air. “Lady Brienne, if you ever marry you must make sure it is to one that is brave enough to accept what you are and not to a man that loves his idea of what you are or should be.” Without further comment, the Queen took her furs and left. 

 

Brienne watched her leave with concern etched into her features. The Queen was fantastic at hiding her feelings. This had been the first time Jaime had seen her lose her composure. Only her eyes betrayed her momentarily, whenever she stared at Jon Snow. Her pulse and heartbeats changed rhythm, but no one apart from Jaime would ever realize that. Jaime felt sad for the Queen. Whenever she laid eyes on Jon Snow, she seemed to be holding all her body tightly, suppressing the urge to go to him and hug him. Lord Eddard Stark and Queen Lyanna Stark were similar enough, though she was a wild beauty while he was just dull in appearance. She was lucky that her brother was similar to her; otherwise everyone might noticed the resemblance between the sullen boy and the Queen. 

 

He remembered those confused days of war. When the Queen was still Lady Lyanna Stark, and she had been kidnapped by Lord Rhaegar II Targaryen, King of Westeros. A war erupted from the infraction and it had consumed the country. The war happened to start at the exact moment their decade of sleep ended. That decade that Cersei and him had gone into hiding, or perhaps it is best to say they rested. They wanted to be more careful when they hunted, they’d meant to be, but there was much to hunt in the midst of the confusion of war. Jaime urged his sister to be better informed about whom they hunted. He cared about the outcome of the war. This Rhaegar had seemed so similar to another Rhaegar, a Targaryen he had utterly failed once... But those thoughts were about a different time, better left locked in his mind after his long sleep. He was surprised when he learned by spying on the nobles, common people, and the Lord Rhaegar himself, that he was not what he showed to the world. Lord Rhaegar II seemed to be a sensitive and respectable man, acting out of love, and it was to his surprise that he learned that Lady Lyanna did not want him. Jaime shouldn't have intervened, this was humans business, yet those screams and in that same place... it reminded him too much of another time, and of other screams and another Targaryen. Not all Targaryens are rotten, but that one had been. By the time Lord Stark arrived to free his sister, Lord Rhaegar wasn't breathing anymore. Lady Lyanna had seen nothing, she had been too distracted by other pains at the time her kidnapper was dragged from her room. 

 

Brienne had said to Jaime that he made a difference, but for Lyanna Stark, had he really made a difference? He did not want to think what would have happened to Brienne had he not helped her after that party so many nights ago. He was sure that she could have dealt with those men that attacked Lady Sansa even though that time he had also intervened, but it was after the party, when the men attacked Brienne with the gun, that she could have truly died. They could have truly hurt her. He did not enjoy the thoughts, but they came anyway. Lady Lyanna was a fierce woman, but she had been overpowered and forced into submission. Jaime did not want the same to happen to Brienne, ever. 

 

The few days they had expended in Winterfell, he had heard the workers and the lord’s whispers. He heard how heartbroken everyone was about Queen Lyanna. They kept commenting on what a happy girl she was before, on how playful she was. Just like little Arya, they said. Now she was nothing but a shadow of what she used to be, always stern. Only when fighting Brienne had she smiled. Such experiences brand a person for life, he had seen it before. 

 

 _Cersei..._ however much he tried, he couldn't help but think of his sister. Once she got used to her new reality, not a week after the Dragon Lady had left them, she had started. She had her revenge, and still it had not been enough. Cersei had succumbed to a rampage, murdering abusive men was the only thing she knew. She had become a rabid lioness and all his efforts to reason with her had been in vain, calm didn't reach her but after two years of massacre. Hundreds of men, thousands, had paid the price of a single man with the proclivity to take things by force. As years went by she finally regained a sort of peace, then that peace had turned into boredom. She started to desire power, seeking to contact others. Jaime had not liked those times. The covens were too similar to their life at court for comfort. While he kept to himself, Cersei had continued to visit the covens. Now that he could analyze all those years as objectively as possible, he started to understand why she would abandon him. He had nothing new to offer and Cersei was a woman who required constant admiration and power. He cared nothing for those things. She will always be beautiful to him, but there was no reason for them to be together any longer. They had been more different than he had known. Their disagreement was bound to happen. Brienne might have been a coincidence, but she had made him see he could care for others. He was sure he cared for Brienne. 

 

Unexpectedly he felt it, another. It was there, just a couple of trees away from Brienne, the imposing presence of a ferocious and deadly creature. Her long, pale and wavy hair danced like wild serpents around her, almost as if they were whipping the air. Her shining eyes staring directly at him with an intensity that would have made him go to his knees in other times, past times. The threat was as clear as if she had uttered the words. Jaime felt as if his insides had been twisted by a sword.

 

_NO!_

 

Forgetting about everything he flew towards the figure but she disappeared before he could reach her. It was as if she had never been there. Her presence had simply vanished. There was nothing except a familiar scent. That had not been Cersei. It was worse than Cersei. After centuries of not seeing her, she had come to him, the Dragon Lady. _Why? What does she want with Brienne?_ He was surprised and alarmed. He had a chance to save Brienne from Cersei, but from her...

 

“Jaime, was that you?” said Brienne in a worried voice, approaching the tree.

 

_There is no need to tell her, she has enough to worry about._

 

“Yes, Brienne, forgive me. I thought... but it was nothing” _What am I saying? She will suspect._

 

“I didn't know you could... fly, though it does explain things. Are you coming down?” She sounded alarmed, but at the same time concerned.

 

“In a minute,” he said, as he regained a more normal shape. It caused him no pain anymore, but it had been very difficult the first time he had tried emulating the Dragon Lady. He had seen her many times, she wasn't shy about it. She wasn't shy about anything. Only a few seconds more and his torso, arms and feet recovered a complete human shape.

 

“What did you see? Was it someone, something…? One of yours?” Brienne was trying to see where he was, he was grateful that this was an evergreen tree, leaves and snow would hide him from her inquisitive eyes until the process was over. What she knew about him was enough to scare any lady, even a man. Though Brienne was no normal lady, there was no need to add unnecessary complications to their relationship. 

 

When he finished, he jumped and landed in front of her, barefoot and shirtless. Her eyes widened but she managed to repress a gasp, swallowing it. Flustered, red-faced and so obviously uncomfortable, Jaime almost wanted to tease her. He would have had he not been so worried, she tried looking only at his eyes but ended up staring at his feet.

 

“It would look odd if someone saw you now. It would be wiser to wear more clothes... and boots. It's cold, you know. There is even snow,” she reprimanded him.

 

“I know, I apologize, I forgot myself, my lady.”

 

“What were you doing in the trees? Were you spying on me?”

 

“I was worried, there are dangers...”

 

“That you think I know nothing about? I think now that I do know about them, did you see one of them?” She said interrupting him and staring right into his face.

 

“What makes you think that?” It was probably futile, but he tried to avoid the issue.

 

“The fact that you are avoiding my questions, and the fact that it suddenly grew strangely colder.” Of course, he had forgotten, that was how they could feel them when there was a real danger. That meant he had not been confused, the creature had meant to attack. _But why did she leave? She knows she is stronger than me._ “Was I right? There is one of them here then? We should tell Queen Lyanna, or Lady Sansa,” said Brienne, frowning. 

 

“What are you going to tell them? Are you going to say that a monster is roaming their forest? They would either laugh at you or take you for a madwoman. As long as that creature is not invited they are safe inside, you should stay inside as well.”

 

“Jaime... you know I will not hide,” she said, shaking her head.

 

“Stubborn woman,” he complained, exasperated.

 

“I will not hide. You, on the other hand, should be more discrete. You shouldn't be jumping around barely naked.”

 

“I was... concerned.” 

 

She looked at him as if he was a child and sighed, almost admitting defeat. “Must you be so careless?” 

 

“When something worries me, I tend to be reckless.” He graced her with a small half-smile.

 

“If they find out what you are, it could be dangerous. They are already curious about your sleeping patterns. Telling them the cold doesn't become you was a pitiful excuse.” She seemed angry but there was a slight hint of panic in her voice. She was worried about him as well, he could tell. He somehow felt the urge to lighten their mood.

 

“You are a difficult woman to please, my lady. First you are concerned when my lies are too elaborate, then you are more disturbed still when they become too simple. What could I do to avoid your anger?” He tried to charm her with a ravishing smile.

 

“You are hopeless,” said she and left him. 

 

Perhaps he was, but he only wanted to protect her, from other vampires and from humans as well. For the latter reason, he continued with his trick of escaping his chamber at night and staying with her until just before the house woke up. Watching her sleep had a soothing effect on Jaime.

 

Or at least it used to. Not long ago it calmed him, but now he was uneasy. Now it caused a commotion inside him, a cramming of feelings that were becoming difficult to fight. It was good to see her breathing, alive still. He thought of different ways for them to escape, but knew that there would be no escape from Cersei. She would always find them, eventually. Even where they were now wasn’t safe. Brienne was not even going to accept his protection, she would probably try to fight Cersei herself. Even if he locked up Brienne in her own house, Cersei would easily seduce someone who would invite her in. As if that wasn't enough, now the Dragon Lady was roaming Winterfell. But there were other reasons for his discomfort, beyond fear. Increasingly he felt the need – even urge – to kiss Brienne. 

 

It was impossible. She was not as other ladies. She would not be pleased to be convinced of how beautiful or perfect she was because she knew her flaws. Yes, she did have flaws, he knew them as well as her, but for Jaime they were too minor to sway him. She had a wild sort of beauty, rooted more on her inner self than on the outside layer. It was strength of character, an unchanging loyalty and even innocence, a complex mixture he wished he could protect forever. Her body was as different from that of other ladies as much as her mind, it was strong and muscular. Even then there was a particular grace about it, the fluidity of her movements and her confidence with the sword frequently left him speechless. He could hear her toned legs move as she changed positions in the training yard and in bed. It required a lot of effort on his part not to touch them while she slept. There was absolutely nothing wrong with her body, despite the scars it had. The freckles that covered it were no longer an ugly trait, but a path he wished to follow with hands and mouth. Not even her broken nose could offend him now. She could be tall, even taller than him by some inches, and her mouth could be big but her lips were full, red and seemed appetizing to him. He enjoyed hearing how the muscles of her back relaxed as she slept, and how her chest moved rhythmically gave him less than innocent ideas of what he wanted to do with it. Her long, soft neck looked so tempting he found himself wishing no longer only to suck it but to press his lips to it, to make her shiver. Her hands were big but gentle. Her hair was a dull tone of blond, but he still wanted to touch it every night. And then there were her eyes. There was no denying they were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. He wouldn't mind to waste years away only staring into them. 

 

She was also not the sort of person that would accept it if he tried to be harsh with her. With Cersei it had always been him, the one who had to go to her. Sometimes even with a little violence, but she liked it. She enjoyed being violent as well. Brienne wouldn't, at least not as they were now. 

 

After going back to his chamber and putting some clothes on, he headed to the hall where Lord Stark’s red-haired daughter was singing sweetly to a surprised Brienne. The lords and ladies seemed quite pleased with Lady Sansa's performance. With a pang of guilt, he noticed that Lady Lyanna was conspicuously absent. Once the little bird finished singing she sat in front of Brienne and smiled brightly. Little Arya Stark sat next to her sister and brought a package out that she placed on the table, right in front of Brienne. The tall woman stared at it, open-mouthed and undecided. Her fingers reached for it then she seemed to doubt her actions and her hands went back to her lap. Lady Sansa beckoned her to open it, assuring that it was for her. Brienne briefly looked at Sansa then, before letting her eyes drift to the package that was lying in front of her. Lady Catelyn stood up and walked to place herself behind Lady Sansa. As she was doing that she insisted that Brienne should open it. They had found out, thanks to a letter from Lord Selwyn, that it was Brienne's name day. Jaime felt immediately offended. _Why didn't she tell me?_ However when he observed Brienne's reaction to the attention she was receiving, he realized that there seemed to be more than just shyness attached to her reaction. She was visibly nervous, her hands were sweaty and she was making her best effort to hold back her tears. They were forming in her eyes nonetheless. 

 

Jaime did the only thing he could think of to help. He entered the room and, after congratulating Brienne, he asked in his most charming voice for a dance to honor his lady and the gracious family. No one disagreed. In fact they were delighted, as he expected them to be. Initially Brienne looked even more mortified but seconds later, when everyone's attention turned to the dance and left her, she understood. Jaime danced with Lady Sansa, to take her away from Brienne. The red-haired girl had the best intentions, but he knew there must be a reason why Brienne was not particularly keen on celebrating her birthday. Later when another lord, one that wasn't particularly attractive, took Jaime's place, he went to sit next to his lady. She seemed to have regained her calm and was observing the dance, one hand holding her wine cup.

 

“Will you tell me, or would you rather leave it for later?” She flicked her eyes to him anxiously, but he continued. “I can wait” 

 

Sighing, she slowly moved her head and looked at him. Her mouth opened, but closed again, and she stared into her cup. “I don't really enjoy ceremonies.” 

 

Brienne was a poor liar, she would have failed even if he couldn't hear her body betray her to the last detail. He simply looked at her and waited until she finally realized he was not to be fooled. It took almost half an hour, but she finally gave in. 

 

“Father wrote to me, he expects...” The words seemed stuck in her throat. She played nervously with her cup, “there is an insinuation... he says...” She bit her lip and then said, visibly appalled, “he wants me to fulfill my duty.” Then she drank the rest of the wine in one gulp before continuing. “He had said it before, I could wait until my 18th birthday, and then I would have to wed. Most woman of my age are already married, and since I have an obvious-” She couldn't continue. Instead she blinked away the tears that she tried with all her might to hold.

 

She poured more wine, but only a bit more, and then gulped that down as well. Lady Catelyn pretended to be too happily distracted with the dance to realize how unusually Brienne was behaving, and Jaime was glad for her feigned obliviousness. Luckily the noise of the music was enough to hide their discussion. He was unsure about what to say. He knew he cared about her, perhaps too much, but he didn't want to force himself on her. The idea of marrying Brienne was not one that he would discard as easily as he would once have. At some point he even considered it. He could see himself with her, he had even thought that... but no. He was painfully aware of his limitations. It wasn't in his power to give her what she needed. She would never have descendants with him. That door was forever closed. Jaime only wanted to protect her, but his presence might have scared away potential suitors from her. She might not be seen as beautiful by others, but her father had lands and a title. Without him dogging her steps it might have been enough to attract interest. The last thing he wished was to taint her honor, but her life was more important than her honor. He had to be near her, to protect her. Besides, he would shut the mouths of whoever spoke ill words of his lady. After they solved their issues with Cersei, he would help his stubborn lady to find a suitable man-maybe in Lannisport. He would find her a man that could be loyal and true, someone honorable enough for her. She needed a man that would be good and faithful, that could love her and make her smile. Without knowing him, he hated this faceless man of his imagination. The thought caused an acute pain in Jaime, but it had to be done. She wanted to fulfill her father's wishes so he should help her. Not now, later. First they had to deal with Cersei... had she looked at some other prey, perhaps this wouldn't have happened. He may have stayed with her for years, though surely not many. Eventually they would have broken apart and he would have undoubtedly embraced the sun after that. But at least Brienne would have led a normal life. She would have been safe. 

 

“If you wish, I can write to him,” offered Jaime, trying not to think about the future anymore.

 

“No, I don't wish that,” she replied, in a serious tone.

 

“Very well, what do you wish me to do?” He said, analyzing her. 

 

Her anger was as obvious as her freckles. A boiling rage seemed to be ready to pour out from her violently when Jaime reached for her and covered her hand with his.

 

“I would marry you, yet I cannot sire infants. The nobility would blame you and you would probably blame yourself. The problem would be me. If you truly want to follow your father's order, then I am the least suited for the task.” His first words seemed to surprise her positively, but his last seemed to enrage her again. Brienne’s fingers curled in her palms and he was sure she was about to beat him, but he grabbed her hand tighter when he continued “These are not excuses, my affection for you is real. I would rather lose an arm or my own head than lose you, but I can't give Lord Selwyn the grandchildren he desires.”

 

Brienne seemed to struggle with this revelation and slowly seemed to regain calm. Her hands were no longer tense. Finally she spoke “I wish I was not forced to marry, but perhaps I wouldn't have found it as terrible if-” She swallowed while her eyes directed themselves slowly towards him, then she shook her head, disengaged her hand from him, and took her cup with both hands and smiled sadly at it. He didn't need her to continue talking but he wished she would dare. Her heart beats had told him what her mouth couldn't. Had he proposed, she would have accepted. In a way, it gave him even more grief. The ache only increased when he considered that one day he would have to force himself to leave her.

 

An hour or more passed and then the ball finally ended. Lady Sansa hugged Brienne and wished her a good time for the rest of her stay. The girl was to leave for the Vale early in the morning, to visit her aunt, and therefore needed a good rest. Thought the lords and ladies continued drinking, Brienne excused herself and thanking them for the honor of such a celebration. She took the package to her room as she left. Not much later Jaime went quietly to her room, finding her already asleep. 

 

Brienne looked peaceful as she slept. It had been centuries since he had. He wondered what she could be dreaming about. Without thinking much about it, he lay by her side and placed his head next to hers, closing his eyes. He thought how nice it would be to dream, or to be able to see her dreams. If just by that small movement, just by touching her forehead with his and closing his eyes, he might be able to see into her mind. His eyes had just closed when he heard her gasp and felt a little tickling in his forehead. She was awake and the sensation was her eyelashes, fluttering against his skin. 

 

His eyes were closed but he felt it. He felt how she was staring at him and how her breathing became uneven. She did shiver every time he touched her. He had never touched her with too much passion, or in any part that would be rude or inappropriate to touch. Just her cheeks, her neck, sometimes even her lips, but only very slightly and only with his fingers. She didn't refuse him but she had said many times she did not want him to kiss her.

 

“Jaime?” she whispered but he remained silent.

 

He heard the sounds her teeth made as she bit nervously at her lips. Before long he heard her blood rushing to her face and felt the heat it caused. Then he noted the sound of her left hand moving, and soon the weight of it as it was touched his cheek. It required some effort to avoid moving, he wanted to see how far she would go with her little exploration if she thought he was asleep, if she thought he was not judging her. She moved her fingers carefully over his skin, almost not touching him. If he would have been human, her warmth might have been perceived as a bit above average, but to Jaime’s vampiric senses she was burning. It was a good heat; he enjoyed it, and wanted to allow her more exploratory time. 

 

Her finger trailed over cheek, nose, forehead, and even his lips. There she stayed longer, going in circles, upper lip and then lower. Soon after she moved to his chin, and then followed the line of his jaw. He felt how she stirred and when her nose touched his, he opened his eyes abruptly. It surprised him how close she had dared to come. She was startled and almost moved away but he grabbed her hand and begged with his eyes for her to remain. It seemed she understood, moving no further than what she had already. He tentatively tilted his head, in order to close their distances just a little more. She swallowed, but then she also moved. It was a small distance, maybe a centimeter closer. Her warmth increased as well as her nervousness. Doubt, expectation, and excitement were obvious in her eyes.

 

They kept this slow pace until, moving in tandem, their lips pressed together. The thrill that it caused felt like sunlight in his veins, almost burning him from the inside out. She might have saved him from the day, and the sun’s warm kiss, but she couldn't save him from her own. It wasn't outside the realm of possibility that her warm skin, hot to the touch, would produce blisters on his lips. She sucked air up, desperately gasping, but their lips never broke contact. Her lack of experience mattered not. She was doubtful and shy, but she was responding to him and that alone was blissful. He placed a hand on the back of her head, buried in her thin hair, and an arm at her back, dragging her body closer to his. He tried to be delicate but at first she still seemed surprised. She responded quickly enough, however, by locking her legs with his. At the same time she opened her mouth, and past teeth and lips their tongues met. Another fire burned through Jaime, from tongue to toes, reaching every hair of his body. It was like a funeral pyre, but the burning was slow and sweet. Jaime didn't need much and her shy attempts to imitate the movements of his tongue were stimulating enough. He wanted to remain in such a state for the rest of his existence. Now that he knew the feeling, he could feel that he would always want it. He would always need it. 

 

One of her gentle hands was on his cheek, the other trailing from his belly to his chest, spreading the fire wherever it touched. It mattered not that there was a layer of clothes distancing her from his skin. Even through the fabric he could feel her warmth. As if it had not been enough, he could still hear as her blood rushed to the different parts of her body, how heat was forming in between her legs and how her other lips were reacting to their actions. And he could smell the scent emanating from her body as she was becoming aroused, perhaps not even knowing what was happening to her. It was intoxicating. His hand at her back also started moving, but down. Brienne gasped and broke their kiss, looking wildly at him. 

 

“We can't,” she said, whispering and panting, almost unable to speak. 

 

“I am not going to force you, my apologies if that's what I made you think,” he said, feeling genuinely sorry. 

 

“I know,” she replied in another breathy whisper. She was blinking and trying to regain control of her breathing. 

 

“You do?” He couldn’t help but sound hopeful.

 

“Yes, I know you are not going to force me.”

 

He gave her a very soft kiss and smiled at her. Briefly, she smiled as well. She finally trusted him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this, let me know your thoughts about it. Thanks a lot for the kudos and especially for the comments, I love them! More than anything when people are suspecting what will happen. Whatever thoughts, ideas, conflicts, etc, you might have, let me know! Thanks again


	13. The monster and the maiden fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne and a powerful foe, but who from our selection could it be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, a thousand thanks to H3L for her kindness, patience and amazing words.

The moment she reached the building she felt something was amiss. An air of solitude enveloped the area. In fact, the place seemed deserted. Yet at the same time she felt eyes boring into her back. Lady Sansa had summoned her here, to Torrhen's Square, but she was not there to receive Brienne as she said she would be. Despite her calling out many times, no one came. Gingerly she opened the door and found it unlocked. As she entered, she observed in awe the state in which she found the Tallhart's residence. It looked as if a battle had been fought in there. She kept calling for Lord Tallhart and Lady Sansa, but no one replied. No maid came. No human sound was to be heard. Stepping further in, as fast as she could she surveyed the area, and saw that, as she had feared, no one was there. The dining room was empty, as empty as the other rooms and in equal calamitous state. Only a few candles kept the room dimly lit, but she could see how terrible the damage was. The chairs, tables, and decoration seemed to have been tossed around in a fit of rage, lying broken and scattered all over the room. There was only silence, and not a soul to see. 

 

Brienne’s stomach twisted in pain and she almost couldn’t discern the immediate cause of her distress, until her thoughts turned to her invitation. _Lady Sansa!_ Sweet smelling, soft spoken, kind Lady Sansa. She feared for her. The young lady had sung so beautifully for Brienne only a week ago, trying to cheer her up on her ill-fated name day. Never before had a young woman shown her such kindness. There was no malice about the sweet lady. She stood to gain nothing by favoring Brienne. The Starks were powerful and rich, far more than her own father. Had Lady Sansa never spoken to her after Brienne had saved her, Brienne wouldn't have been surprised or angry. But the lovely girl had, instead, made every effort to show sympathy and even tried to win her friendship. Lady Sansa's behavior was a reflection of her family's kindness. They had been so graceful as to invite her into their home, even giving her a jacket on the day she turned 18 years old. It was blue and gray, beautiful and surely very expensive. It had the sigil of house Tarth embroidered on each shoulder. It was the perfect gift. It meant they accepted her ways, not forcing her to wear dresses or delicate slippers. Little Arya had indicated that they were used to strong ladies in the North, like her, and like Queen Lyanna and the Mormont ladies. Every word and every nicety the young Lady Sansa had shown her had been honest. What if she had been attacked? What if the young girl was hurt? Why had she summoned Brienne here, why the need for secrecy? Where was she? Brienne had to find her.

 

Following her instincts, she took her sword from its scabbard. No one was there but the air felt strange, dense and cold. The air condensed as she exhaled. It was not a normal cold, as the cold felt by the wind and snow. It was a cold that seemed to cause shivers, regardless of how many layers of clothes one was wearing. It made one shudder involuntarily in fear, even when one tried to be brave. Even when one could see no danger. It didn't just hurt to the bones, it invaded and evolved in such a way that it made one doubt the existence of warmth itself. Only after exhausting itself could one’s body, subjected to that foul cold, feel warm again. She had learned that after fighting Jaime. She had felt it again in the forest the other day. Yet as she turned and looked around, it seemed she was completely alone. 

 

There was naught but quiet and silence. Such was the silence that she could hear her own breathing, her own movements, and her own sword as it cut the air. Even the wind soft outside seemed loud in that stillness. Then she heard a faint noise, almost imperceptible, cloth caressing the floor. It was gentle, almost with tenderness. She turned towards the sound, but saw nothing. The room was empty. There was nothing there. Only the paintings on the wall resembled anything similar to human shape in that room, paintings of the old Lords of Torrhen's Square. They looked grave and serious. It seemed even they were observing and judging her, telling her she was alone, convincing her that she was letting her imagination consume her rationality. Shaking her head, in an attempt to reject those thoughts, she advanced in search of her adversary. 

 

_There is someone here, I know it_

 

Seconds later another sound disturbed the silence, again it came from behind. As she turned she could have sworn she saw a shadow, sliding away as fast as a snake, but then she blinked and it was gone. A rush of wind seemed to enter the room, curiously extinguishing the few flames still lit. Darkness engulfed her, making it was even more difficult to see. Still, the silence prevailed. It took her some time to get used to the blackness, but finally her eyes could distinguish the shapes and none of them were human. Again the doubts invaded her. Had she imagined it? Was she dreaming? It didn't feel as a dream. Not even a nightmare. Someone, something, was gliding around the room but whenever she turned, it was not there anymore. Each time it seemed to close the distance between them even more, one step at a time. 

 

_It's circling me, playing with me._

 

Eyes were observing her, she knew it. She felt them burn on her back and on her neck. The moment she felt them boring into her, she turned to face her opponent, but the creature kept eluding her. At some point she even felt breathing on her neck, or not exactly breathing on her but breathing her in. Despite immediately turning towards whatever might be causing it, again she saw nothing. She grunted in frustration. Minutes stretched in that all-encompassing silence. It was becoming late, moonshine beginning to illuminate the room. The coldness and silence only seemed to grow and expand until she felt a soft caress touching her neck. It wasn't a hand. In the periphery of her eye she saw pale hair whipping the air, but once more she hadn't been fast enough when she turned to confront it. The creature had streaked away again. It had come closer, for seconds she was able to smell a female fragrance, yet the creature kept evading her. Wherever she looked, however fast she turned, it was absolutely fruitless. She couldn't see her foe, but at her core she knew it was there, every inch of her body kept screaming at her that there was danger. It was close and soon it would engage her. Unexpectedly, she felt a tug on her hair and tried to get hold of whatever was pulling it but it escaped her grasp after only a split second. She had felt it, she wasn't crazy, a cold female hand. Her heart was beating fast in her chest and she felt the ominous silence would soon come to an end.

 

Anticipating it somehow, she rolled and then aimed at what she felt was a presence in the air, her eyes told her it was nothing... but the air howled. For brief seconds her sword had reached skin. Brienne was sure about this, even when her eyes where telling her otherwise. 

 

“How dare you!?” A sultry female voice screamed. And then she was there, not far from her, with long blond hair, curvaceous and gorgeous. Her long, lush dress reached the floor. It was crimson and gold, with ferocious lions decorating the shoulders and bodice. The woman could have been a goddess. There was not a doubt in Brienne’s mind that the creature in front of her was Jaime's twin. The resemblance was uncanny, yet those shiny green eyes showed no affection for her. Only a strange detail upset the whole picture, Cersei seemed to be slightly older than Jaime, which Brienne knew to be impossible. The lady's face was twisted in a furious grimace and with one hand she was covering the arm Brienne had injured. Her blood flooded slowly, staining her rich dress. The creature she knew must be Cersei, seemed to be more distressed about her ruined dress than about her wound. Although she was hurt, she stood with pride, her head high and her chest up. Despite her beauty, there was an odd air about her, as if she was tired and some locks of her hair seemed brittle even to Brienne. 

 

She got to her feet and lifted her sword towards her enemy. There was no turning back. The moment had finally come to face Cersei Lannister. In any other circumstance, had Cersei been a woman and not the monster that she was, she would have probably not been able to throw more than a few hurting observations towards Brienne. That was not the case now. Brienne knew very well what a creature such as her was capable of. However difficult it seemed to her to point her sword towards what in appearance was nothing but a lady, she forced herself to do so. Another attack was imminent. It seemed in defiance to all she had learned during her lifetime. A woman like Cersei was not usually strong, instead it would be expected that she would need protection and despite how hateful a noble lady could be, it was unchivalrous and unthinkable to ever raise one's sword against a woman. Many noblewomen had mistreated Brienne and she had always failed at acquiring the knowledge on how to fight in more subtle, vocal ways. Even then she had learned to control her anger and frustration, to accept their scorn in silence and never once thought about hurting or threatening them. They wouldn't have been able to defend themselves. Yet the blond beauty in front of her was not a woman. 

 

“So the little beast plans to fight me? I thought you would have been devastated. Instead you want to confront me? How remarkable it is. You don't even seem frightened.” She laughed and her green eyes scrutinized Brienne intently, analyzing her every move and gauging her. Brienne only stared directly at her face. 

 

“Where is Lady Sansa? Where is Lord Tallhart?” Brienne inquired stolidly.

 

Placing both hands delicately on her chest and feigning surprise, the monster lady spoke, “you still believe that? How innocent. It pains me to cause of such paramount disappoint, but that letter was a complete fabrication on our part. It was after all, our intention to ensnare _you_ , not the little bird.”

 

Her words stirred up some troublesome thoughts. It became evident that when she mentioned “us,” she was referring to her and Jaime. He had told Brienne about the bet, about the plan, but he had given his word that he now wanted to protect Brienne. He no longer wished her to die. 

 

“What? Is it so vexing? Did you not realize that you were being used? He fed you lies, all this time he only heeded my request. He deceived you to gain your trust, using whatever means necessary. He was only pretending, all this time he was just _pretending_ to profess any sort of affection for you, so you would fall for him. He can lie very well, can't he? I knew he could if he cared to try. He almost fooled even my _eyes_. You believed him. You probably wanted to, desperately. He brought you here for me, he does not love you, and he couldn't really. You must know it. Only looking at you would be enough to revolt _any_ man. The fact that he remained so long near you, enough time to fool you, is only proof of his love for me.” Then she raised her free hand and smelled what she had in it, just once, before continuing. “It seems obvious, when you consider he did not even deflower you. A pity, I asked him to do it,” then she let whatever she was holding fall to the floor. Brienne didn't even blink. 

 

“ _This represents my gratitude, my respect, and my esteem for you.... I would marry you... my affection for you is real.”_ She remembered his words, used them as a shield. She remembered how he kissed her. Tenderly. Patiently. And then, desperately. Such intensity couldn't be faked, could it? After that first kiss, he had kissed her every night. It had been a week already, since they had started their innocent kissing, but it never became something else. Only lips on lips, tongues tangling in the dark. Each one had been more intense than the last, but they had done nothing else. Jaime must have been truthful to her. He gave her his sword and called it Oathkeeper. She had to remember that. Before their quarrel ended, she was sure this woman would throw more than one hurting remark towards her. She needed to concentrate, to be ready for Cersei’s assaults. She must not be distracted by her mere words, so she brushed her fears aside. The lioness narrowed her eyes briefly, but then she smiled.

 

“You don't believe me? I did ask him, you should have gotten that pleasure at least before you died. I am that generous,” continued the blond beauty, shaking her mane of blond hair, teasing her.

 

“It seems your brother is not. I am aware of your plan,” said Brienne, hoping beyond hope that her face didn't betray her feelings.

 

“So, he told you that? And even then you fell for him?” She laughed, with femininity and delicacy, the perfect image of a highborn lady. Her laugh pierced Brienne harder than any sword could. A voice in her mind told her this woman could be right. It was foolish and naive to believe that a man, a creature, such as Jaime could reciprocate her feelings in any way. He could have been lying, could have been trying very hard to convince her of having feelings he was only feigning to have. It could be part of his strategy, to pretend he suddenly cared for her and to _confess_ the bet, to say he was going to leave Cersei, to give her the sword. It could very well have been part of his plan, of their plan, all of it. What if they had always been devising it together, what if he had been reporting his advancements to Cersei? And they had laughed behind her back? It could be possible that, once again, she had been made a fool.

 

Every movement the lioness made was graceful. It was clear that, despite her uncomfortable clothes, she could command her body with security and fluidity. Cersei's breath-taking beauty, the cold emanating from her and the perfection of her movements, were drowning Brienne. It became evident that she had to expel the effect the lady's words had from her mind. She couldn't allow this perfect woman, this monster, to see her insecurities, to prey on them and defeat her thus. She would deal with her doubts another day, she had to be alert now. Her determination seemed to annoy Cersei, though she had only thought about it. It seemed the lioness could somehow perceive part of what crossed her mind. Brienne frowned. Jaime never had seemed able to read her mind, not directly. He seemed to understand her, to possibly predict her some, but with Cersei it felt different. Brienne couldn't understand it, but it seemed that her foe had a way to force strange thoughts into her mind.

 

“All this time, every one of the nights he was with you, he did nothing but obey my command. He followed my words. The very reason he ever set eyes on you, was me. _**I**_ ordered him to seduce you, to break you, to show you that you are not any better than those you despise.” The lioness roared with confidence.

 

 _Don't listen,_ Brienne told herself, but as the lioness took a step towards her, she felt compelled to give a step back. The lioness was speaking with such certainty, she shouldn't listen but... it made her hesitate.

 

“He obeyed me, he loves me. For him, living without me would be impossible. We have been together since before we were born, we shared a womb, he belongs with me. These nights you had with him were borrowed, a jape. A bet I made with him.”

 

It seemed the air was becoming scarce. Despite her attempts to ignore them, those words were crushing her. They were feeding her darkest fears. Not the fear for her life, but the fear that she was indeed being played with again, that she was nothing but the target of a bet. That she was nothing but laughing material. The words were snaking around her neck and chocking her. Brienne could have sworn she saw them materialize and constrict around her throat.

 

 _Concentrate, be alert,_ she tried to reason, yet her face must have betrayed her, because the creature in front of her had a smirk in her face. It was so similar to the one she had once seen on Jaime, that she had to force herself to keep her sword in the right position. She couldn't be defeated only by hurtful words. She knew she was stronger than that. And the snaking hand about her throat dissipated in a cloud of vapor. Cersei's smirk twitched but she seemed otherwise unaffected.

 

“If you believe him so loyal to you... why is he not here?” Cersei said, starting circling her slowly, seductively, but with such a cold aura surrounding her that Brienne’s kept her body tensed. “Why hasn't he arrived? Where is he? How can you know that we haven't planned this from the beginning? Because we did, from the first time I lay eyes on you and smelled you, I wanted you. I spied on you, learned about you, and decided that I wanted to crush you. Yet I needed his help to achieve that. Considering that you fancy men, handsome men, who would be the best to destroy you but the handsomest man that has ever walked the earth? My mirror. We planned it. He would win your trust, and then you would be delivered to me.” 

 

Her heart sunk and though she tried, it was increasingly difficult to shut her mind to those compelling words. _Is it true?_ It could be, it had taken him a lot of time to win her over, but Jaime had already lived for so long... he could be patient. It was not beyond the realm of possibility that it had all been a farce. Or even if he felt something, he could have been just amusing himself while waiting for Cersei's return. After all, Cersei was his lover, a beautiful creature very unlike herself. Blinking to keep her tears at bay, she forced herself to swallow the agonizing moan that was crawling through her throat. 

 

 _Concentrate,_ she berated herself, steadying her sword arm. _Whatever might be the truth, you are used to it. You have been played before. Think about your father, Lady Sansa, Lady Lyanna. Think about them. Think about how a creature like this could hurt them if you fail. Fight for them._ She repeated their names to herself, holding on to the thought with desperation... and part of her stubbornly believed in Jaime still. 

 

Yet the monster wasn't done with her. Abruptly she stopped circling.

 

“It's a pity, yet, that men can be so deceiving and can very well play false. It's a shame your mother never told you. She should have let you know that the more people you love, the weaker you are. A woman shouldn't love anyone but herself or her children, if she ever gets the chance to have them. Love turns everyone into a fool. For the ones you love you’ll do things you know you shouldn’t do, you’ll act the fool to make them happy, to keep them safe. If you fall in love with an idiot, then you are certainly going to become an even bigger idiot than he is. Besides, men can be such a disappointment! I expected more from him. I expected he would be able to forget your unappealing appearance and give you some _joy_. Oh, well, if that is the case,” she moved seductively a step closer, “maybe I should finish that job. Jaime can never do a thing right, or perhaps he was too disgusted by you to even try. After all, I might even be a better lover than he is, I am more experienced.” Her voice was clear and smooth, almost a caress, and with such lewd connotation it was sure to arouse any man who heard her. It only repulsed Brienne and increased her ache. 

 

 _She just wants to hurt you, words are nothing but wind. Let them wash over you._

 

“Do you think that highly of yourself? Do you think that whoever succumbs to a need that is as strong as the one of pleasure is beneath you? How can you know? If you are a maid, if you haven't experienced it, how can you judge? The only reason you do is because you haven't been touched before. Maybe if I touched you in the right way, you would like it. Maybe then you would be as wanton as any whore.” 

 

Her tone had started low and escalated to a strong roar that reverberated around the room and made Brienne shudder. Somehow, the lioness’ words were tricking with her mind again, sneaking inside and taking root with haste, convincing her that they carried the truth. A truth that slapped her face in anger and threatened to obliterate any trust she had in Jaime or even herself. They told her that she could be a fallen woman, that she could harbor tainted feelings for Jaime. They said that she was less than pure. Jaime's kisses filled her mind with such fierceness she almost felt them on her skin. He had only kissed her lips, but her body had reacted in curious ways to it. Cersei's words moved her to doubt how chaste those kisses had been in the first place. Was it right to use one's tongue? Was it right to press one's body against the other’s with such desperation? Didn't she feel a strange need to be with him? Even lying next to him, though it never came to be more than that, wasn't that already reserved for only a married woman? And even then, for even a married woman that already knew a man's touch, was it right to accept it so willingly? To seek it out, even? Would an honest woman react in the way she did when they embraced each other? Was she already a whore? 

 

_No, she is just playing with me. I don't have to think about this now. I won't be weakened by her words._

 

At the exact moment Brienne's resolution became stronger, Cersei moved so fast it was almost imperceptible. However the lioness was slower than Jaime. Even then Brienne barely escaped her attack, but this time she reached her attacker’s face with Oathkeeper. The creature roared again. Brienne rolled away from Cersei and stood up, facing her again. 

 

Brienne gave an involuntary step back and almost let her sword fall from her grasp. It was all she could do not to scream. The face of her foe was contorted in rage and pain, her fangs becoming more apparent, growing sharper and longer. A liquid similar to saliva, but thicker, was dripping from them and foam was forming in her mouth. Her frown became considerably more marked. Her eyes shone brighter, as those from a cat in the dark. The lines in her face also becoming more conspicuous, and so deep it made her look completely different from the gorgeous woman that she was only seconds ago. Cersei’s billowy hair was no longer dangling at her sides, but seemed bulky and wild. She looked like a lioness, a true lioness, and monstrous. It was a shocking change but it lasted only brief seconds. Had Brienne blinked, she would have missed it. A second later Jaime’s twin sister’s face was smooth again. There were no lines there anymore, not a single evidence of the momentary change, her teeth and hair seeming normal and only her eyes remaining threatening. 

 

“Little bitch! My beautiful face, how dare you?” She was angrier than before. Oathkeeper had kissed her from cheek to forehead, and her face was blooming in a red that matched her dress. “I will dismember you, piece by piece. You can forget my generosity, you ungrateful bitch. I will torture you until you beg me to kill you!”

 

If any other woman would have uttered them, those words would have caused Brienne not more than a little annoyance, perhaps only a little surprise at finally hearing a real and honest threat. When Cersei said them, they evoked a real and imposing image, as if she had sculpted it in Brienne's mind. The terrifying image of Cersei tearing her apart, limb from limb, and the agony it produced felt so real it almost made her scream. She fought to expel the image from her mind, confused at it having appeared there in the first place. Cersei's words seemed to have strength of their own. Despite how warm her body had grown from the fight, she felt the cold increase and surround her, almost reaching her fingertips, like a presence ready to take over her body.

 

The creature's speed increased and Brienne couldn't prevent her attack. She hit her with such force it made Brienne fly towards a wall. The impact made her dizzy and hurt her all over, but she still held her sword tightly. She held it as if her life depended on it. The second assault was slower, so she could slide and escape it, but only just. The monster charged at Brienne in such frenzy that she had broken the wall, and part of her upper body became momentarily stuck in it. Brienne cut right through her stomach. The situation would have been comical under different circumstances, but the eerie air that inundated the place prevented it from becoming so. 

 

Removing the sword, she took several steps back to keep her distance from the lioness. Cersei remained still for three heartbeats, but Brienne did not believe she was dead. It became somehow clear to her, in a way she could not understand, that she should have aimed at her heart. But the second the thought crossed her mind the blond beauty vanished and Brienne blindly fought the wind again. 

 

Only her instinct told her where to aim, and she had no time to doubt, she only followed it. In a strange way, she felt the sword itself was guiding her but that she sometimes failed at understanding its command. At times she reached her, at times she missed, the monster cut Brienne's skin several times, making her groan in pain. Still, she persisted and tried to ignore her ache. She would tend to her wounds later. Whenever Oathkeeper collided with the creature's skin, the lioness would recoil briefly to then attack her from another front. The battle seemed never-ending but Brienne knew she had enough stamina, or at least hoped she had enough, to match her opponent. Cersei came from every angle, and at surprising speed. One moment she had attacked from behind, and then she was coming from the left, to then fall from the ceiling just the second after that. When she was just recovering from an attack from below, Brienne had to dodge another from her right. The onslaught continued for what seemed like hours, until it stopped abruptly. 

 

Silence engulfed her and no matter where she looked there was no one. Minutes stirred slow as a snail in that strange silence, minutes that made her doubt her sanity. It seemed as if she was completely alone again, exactly like the moment when she had just arrived. No animal or human was there. Even her opponent’s scent had vanished. It was as if Brienne had been alone all this time. Could she have imagined her? Maybe there was nobody there to begin with? Maybe Lord Tallhart would come to his hall in any minute and wonder why some beast of a woman was vandalizing his house. She had no memory of causing the chaos, but was she sure she didn't do it? To her horror she realized she wasn't. It could have been her. All this time... the memories of Sansa's letter were slipping from her mind as well. Was the letter real? Had she invented everything in her mind? Why had she come? What was she doing in this hall? Another kind of fear filled her and she was strangely unaware of how the cold started to surround her again. She didn't realize there was a shadow hovering behind her, whispering doubts in her ear. When she finally felt the presence, it was too late. 

 

“I'm tired of your games, little ugly beast. You smell very well and it's about time you died.” The creature had come out of nowhere, throwing her to the floor with unnatural force. Trapped beside a wall, Cersei’s arm was choking Brienne and her legs were holding Brienne down like cold marble. Her hands went to that arm around her neck, trying to free herself fruitlessly. The lioness wouldn't budge an inch. 

 

“What does it take to make a sow scream?” Cersei whispered, caressing Brienne's face with one finger. “I know, what about showing my gratitude for this?” She pointed to the wound on her face, then her fingertips cracked and twisted, elongating in what looked and sounded like a painful experience. Yet the lioness's face only showed madness, not pain. Cold and pointy as swords, she felt the nails as they tore her cheek. Blood poured from the wound and tainted her hair. 

 

Brienne screamed. 

 

The pain was blinding. Apart from the pain, she was about to faint due to the lack of air. But the lioness had started licking her wound, increasing her agony. Brienne had no time to think about how uncomfortable it made her, to have a woman's tongue gliding through her face in such an salacious manner, as she fought to maintain consciousness 

 

The monstrous lady was savoring her, moaning obscenely, and then suddenly she took Oathkeeper. “I've never tasted something quite so good before,” said she, licking her lips and smiling deliriously. “But before I drain you, I will cut you with this. You may even like it, some enjoy the pain. Was that scream one of pleasure? Maybe it could arouse you? Maybe you can convince me not to let you die a maiden after all.” Then the creature looked at the sword for the first time. All this time she had concentrated on Brienne, and for a moment Cersei looked shocked as she recognized it. The lioness seemed to enter a sort of trance as she observed Oathkeeper. The ferocity vanished from her features, her lower lip suddenly quivering. “Why?” She said in an almost inaudible, impossibly weak voice. That small second of doubt on Cersei’s features bolstered Brienne's confidence. Cersei had not expected this. She hadn't expected Jaime to give their little plaything _that_ sword. It meant she didn't know, it meant Jaime could have been honest with Brienne after all. 

 

_It represents his esteem for me... he might have been telling the truth._

 

Taking advantage of the distraction, she jolted up with all her strength and freed her legs, allowing the impulse to carry her with them. She threw herself forward and pushed the creature against the wall, pressing against Cersei heavily with her own body. Oathkeeper fell to the floor with an audible clatter. The grip on her neck diminished and she disentangled herself from the lady's arms.

 

Seizing her sword, she rolled, stood up and ran just a few meters before turning to face the creature again. Cersei seemed to have recovered from the realization of that sword, of Jaime's present, and of Brienne's attack. That creature's eyes were burning with rage, her fangs had regained their length, and her mouth was dripping with blood. Though she looked horrifying, Brienne kept her stance and her grip. The pain in her cheek kept throbbing but she ignored it. She had to be prepared for the furious lioness. She knew that the next assault would probably kill her, but now she had her sword again. Oathkeeper. It was no ordinary sword. For some reason, she felt that with it she had a chance. She could kill this monster. She just needed to find out how. 

 

Gasping she felt the creature pounce towards her and she readied herself to receive the onslaught. 

 

“Don't touch her,” a trembling but strong voice commanded. A creature was suddenly in front of her, covered in blood and barely able to stand, obviously exhausted due to extreme effort. 

 

“Jaime!” The lady's face was repulsed and she recoiled. Brienne was astonished, that bleeding mass didn't look at all like Jaime. 

 

“What are you doing? Leave immediately, you are going to bleed yourself dry.” It was bizarre to hear that beautiful monster's voice sound so worried. Her face had regained her beautiful features.

 

“Don't you dare touch her,” he said again. He spoke with difficulty, as if each word caused him great pain.

 

“Why, Jaime?” The once again beautiful woman laughed, “have you actually grown attached to this one? I was suspecting you did, giving her _that_ sword. I'll find you someone else, this beast is barely a woman. Now move and leave, you are staining everything.”

 

“No, Cersei, you won't hurt her anymore. Leave her.” And the bloody mass moved, seizing both of Cersei's hands. 

 

“Get off me! Why should she be spared!? Is she more important than me!? More special? She is no one to reject me, she is no one to look down on me. It was nothing but a game, Jaime. A game, have you forgotten? You said yourself that you weren't interested enough in her to even care to try. You wouldn't even lay a finger on her!” She screamed, repulsed. From all the things that woman had said, those were the ones that really hurt Brienne. Cersei kept roaring. “Enough! I am hungry, even if I have to hurt you, I will kill her.” She pushed him to the floor, but she fell with him. Jaime seemed to have decided not to release her. 

 

Still in shock, Brienne stared at the mass of blood that was supposed to be Jaime. She knew he was in pain, but she wished he could tell her that Cersei was wrong. He could tell her that was before, that now things had changed. But was that really Jaime? It didn't sound like him. And it was hard to recognize something more than bloody limbs, and what was probably a head, on that strange bleeding creature that was fighting Cersei. At the same time, who else could it be? 

 

“You will not. Bronn, Pod, seize her!” A voice commanded in the darkness. It took her away from the sea of her doubts. A man and a young fellow, no... two of those creatures actually, appeared out of nowhere and held Cersei. She roared and cursed in rage, but couldn't escape their hold however frantically she struggled. The moment Cersei was removed from his hands, Jaime stopped moving completely. The blood continued to ooze from him though.

 

“You,” the voice said to her, and then she saw the origin of it, a small man in rich red and golden clothes. Not a man really, another one of them. “You, take him outside, otherwise he will die here.”

 

Brienne didn't need further convincing, she took Jaime in her arms as best she could and ran outside. The moment they exited the residency he stopped bleeding. He looked exhausted and unable to move. Only after removing some of the blood from his face, could she recognize Jaime. It was truly him. He had really tried to save her. She took him to a stream that ran nearby and washed him there. Jaime let her do as she wanted. He didn't protest or even try to help. All of his strength seemed to have abandoned him. He was like a puppet in her arms, a puppet with torn and stained clothes. Brienne had no time to start imagining why were his clothes torn into rags, she was too worried about him not reacting whatever she did. 

 

“Jaime? Please say something,” she begged. _Calm yourself, this is not the moment to cry._ But the tears came, nonetheless. She felt so helpless, holding him and noticing how he appeared to have lost weight. He looked so fragile, so unlike him. “Jaime, please,” but he lay still and silent. His eyes seemed empty and his body was limp. Was it too late? Was the effort of entering that house, where he had never been invited, that terrible? Had he been depleted of all his blood? Though it was definitely Jaime, he looked older, weary and consumed. It was as if all the years he had lived had suddenly become evident in his features. Brienne had never been so lost or terrified before. Panic pulsed through her, not even her fight with Cersei had made her feel thus. Her hands were shaking. “Help! He is not moving, someone help him!”

 

Suddenly she felt ridiculous and pathetic again, for entirely different reasons. She shouldn't have doubted Jaime. Her minutes of indecision might have cost him his life. Cursing herself she slapped him. There was no reaction. She wished he had let her fight Cersei on her own. She wished she had reacted faster and taken Jaime outside sooner. Why didn't she react in time? Her lack of confidence and her never-ending fears regarding love and men could have caused his death. A failure, she was a failure again. She had failed her father, and now she had failed Jaime. Why was she always failing the ones she love?

 

The little man was suddenly behind her, speaking. “He needs blood, I'll command my men to bring him some criminal, we are never in want for them and my brother is quite fastidious about his diet.” The little man sounded exasperated. At that precise instant that comment didn't register, but its significance came to be important to her much later. Had she paid attention to it, she would have been disturbed. At that moment she could not think about any other thing than making Jaime recover consciousness.

 

“So, he is not dead?” She asked in desperation, relief washing her with the warm waters of hope.

 

“Not yet, but he will if he doesn't get nourishment soon,” said the man, impatiently. 

 

Then he turned and called someone. A beautiful and voluptuous red-haired woman seemed to have materialized in front of them at the precise instant he had finished calling. The woman made a small curtsy to him and smiled, calling him “Lord Tyrion” almost sweetly. She was obviously, not a real woman. It wasn't just her speed what gave her away, she was too pale. Brienne had learned to recognize the particular pallor of their kind. Lord Tyrion made a gesture with his hands, indicating her to approach him. She kneeled obediently and he said something in her ear. The woman smiled, gave another curtsy, and disappeared as fast and noiselessly as she had made her appearance. Lord Tyrion walked back to the residence mumbling something about arrangements that needed to be made, but she felt incapable of concentrating on anyone but Jaime. 

 

Brienne sat on a rock near the stream, moving Jaime to her lap, and brought him closer to examine him better. It felt strangely... natural... in a primitive way, the moment he finally moved and buried his fangs on her neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this far, there's obviously a lot to explore after this but I am unsure about being able to post for a time, hope you can forgive me but I will continue as soon as possible. Thanks a lot for the kudos and comments, they make me amazingly happy. Any thoughts, ideas, concerns, etc. you have please share them with me.


	14. The bewildered lion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime's confusing side of the story. Tyrion's complains and a bit more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, a thousand thanks to H3L for her amazing patience and lovely words. Thanks to anyone who has left kudos and comments, hope you enjoy this oddity.

Memories of the previous day were blurry in his mind. Brienne had been lured to a small castle under the pretense that Lady Sansa had called for her to meet there at a specific time. The Lady Sansa asked for complete discretion and begged Brienne to come alone, specifically telling her that no one else was invited or welcome. It was all in a letter Brienne had received that morning. Lady Sansa had departed over a week ago but Winterfell had received only one letter from her, it was a curious situation. Brienne left early but not before leaving a note and the letter for him. He received them when he raised later that day. Jaime did not like the idea, but the invitation had come exclusively for her. The seal was real, proving it did belong to Lord Tallhart. He thought that it was rather bizarre for Lady Sansa to write from Torrhen's Square if she was at the Vale visiting her aunt. The story recounted in the letter made little to no sense. And the most alarming part of it all was that she had been so fastidious about Brienne being the only one invited, it was far too suspicious.

 

Why hadn't Brienne noticed? Why hadn't she waited for him? He couldn't help her if she was already there, inside that residence he had never seen before. Nevertheless, as soon as he saw her note he decided to follow as fast as he could. He observed the map that was hanging from the wall in the hall and located Torrhen's Square easily. Immediately he exited and went to the forests, without boots, there was no need to break another pair. Only breeches and an old chemise covered him. He wouldn't miss that particular chemise. Running through the forest at a frenzied pace, he didn't stop to think about how the leaves and thorns were tearing at his clothes and skin, opening wounds even before the fight he expected was coming. It was a particularly foolish behavior for a vampire.

 

The urgency of the situation infused him with determination and seemed to act on his behalf and without thought. Never before had his bones, skin and veins broken, twisted and elongated that fast before. Leaves and twigs swirled around him as his newly formed wings expanded with a sharp sound that cut the air and soon he was elevated. A trail of snow and leaves followed him as he rose. He flew with such hastiness and then landed with such force it gave him no time to notice how the branches had torn his breeches and his already tattered chemise even more. He recovered his human shape in less time than it took him to take five steps towards the holdfast. Fear made him careless. Had any of the lords or maids been outside observing him his secret would have been uncovered. Even if one had been inside, the remarkable noise the changes of his body made while returning to normality were intriguing enough to raise suspicion. Despite his human form not only did he look bewildered and hurt but he had no boots, it wouldn't be easy to explain his state and by what means did he manage to arrive. He brought no horse with him and the distance from Winterfell to here was not one that could be overcome by foot in as little time as it had taken him. The thoughts never crossed his mind because when he arrived he knew something was wrong. The place smelled like Cersei, and he heard strange noises inside and the distinct quality of Cersei's voice. There was no time to doubt. Despite knowing he couldn't enter without an invitation, and having every inch of his body screaming at him not to set foot in that house, he forced himself to enter. The pain was excruciating, all his pores seemed to have been pierced by invisible knives, and he began to bleed profusely from every new wound. Even his eyes bled. Confused by the pain and his unexpected reduced abilities, he walked with difficulty but he finally reached Brienne and Cersei.

 

His strength was not enough but he would still fight her, he was not going to allow Cersei to hurt Brienne. Yet the agony he was in clouded his judgment and he was unable to tell with certainty about his surroundings, let alone his actions or words. Vaguely he remembered holding Cersei back, Tyrion's voice and his sister's screams the moment she was taken prisoner by others. At that moment his head spiraled and he finally succumbed to the darkness that kept calling his name. There was only a small fraction of his self that remained when he felt the gentle embrace of Brienne. Only she had remained by his side in the evolving shadows and her warmth was his last thought before losing consciousness. He felt strangely glad to feel her presence in the ever growing blackness. Her warm and strong arms, her beating heart next to his in this moment. Her existence alone moved him to make his peace with his life as the certainty grew in him that he was finally departing this wretched world. Despite all, he was glad she was there by his side.

 

Not much else seemed clear in his mind until he felt blood in his mouth. The world became alive again and he took that ray of light gladly. Relief and pleasure washed over him until he realized his prey was fighting him, and he seized it with urgency. His prey was strong and disentangled itself from him, pushing back at him until he fell to the waters with a splash that disturbed the otherwise quiet night. The stream was cold when he felt it on his back. He was about to seize the creature and break its neck when his eyes finally focused. The horror on Brienne's face was colder than the stream. And the blood in his mouth, that seconds before was the sweetest he had ever experienced, turned suddenly sour.

 

“Brienne.... forgive me... I'm so terribly sorry.” She had been crying and was drenched in blood, her own blood. Not only that but she was hurt all over. Surely she had been tossed around like an unwanted cat and her clothes were ripped and cut in several places. There was enough evidence that she had bled from those holes in her tunic and breeches. One of her cheeks had been severely wounded and was bleeding still, and with one hand she covered her now hemorrhaging neck. Filled with guilt he looked down.

 

“Please forgive me. Remove my head from my body if you must, but forgive me.” Her reaction to him was all the more harrowing by his conviction he had he was partially responsible for her wounds, and had directly caused at least one of them.

 

“That would be unchivalrous, you have just tried to save me,” she said but with a distant voice.

 

“Brienne... I..” Yet the words wouldn't come, he was still too weak and confused, not knowing what to do to recover her trust but desperate to find a way to do it. Consolatory thoughts stirred in his mind and he mumbled apologies that were met by a wall of silence and a stare far colder than all the winters he had lived through. He knew she was entitled to despise him for what he had done, that she would probably never look at him in the same way. He knew that he had, once again, broken his oath. Guilt was heavy on his chest and he cursed himself for his weakness, for possessing survival instincts that were far greater than rationality. He ran out of apologies so he closed his mouth and looked miserably at her feet. Then they were enveloped in silence for what felt like an eternity.

 

Tyrion and Rose, one of Tyrion's courtesans, approached with prey for Jaime, and so Brienne left with a cheerful Rose holding her arm. His Lady didn't like to witness him _eating_. The prey had come willingly, thinking he was going to enjoy some time with Rose. He looked still confused even when Jaime opened his throat, without even having a chance to scream. Tyrion was sitting in a stone dispassionately watching Jaime drink, crushing the man's head in his desperation, and rapidly recovering from his wounds. After complaining to Jaime about what kind of a dimwit would not make sure he got invited everywhere in Westeros, he explained to him that Cersei had recently started to demonstrate irrational behavior, much more than her normal self should allow. He also explained that Cersei's complex system of spies -her _eyes_ \- was comprised not only of vampires, but the humans that were fond of her as well. And for those that were not precisely fond of her, Lannisters had golden coins galore to move them to action. Tyrion promised to take much more careful control on the gold matter but that would not prevent Cersei's lovers from searching for her. So Cersei had humans as well on her side, Jaime thought. That was why he had not felt any presence, except for the Dragon Lady. Jaime asked Tyrion about her but his little brother had never heard of a vampire that fit the description. By the way he told the story it became clear to Jaime that his younger brother had his own interwoven system of spies,that perhaps even overlapped with that of Cersei's _eyes_. In any case, he told Jaime that their _sweet_ sister had become secretive and suspicious in the last days and that she was last seen three nights ago much further North than her usual wanderings would take her for comfort, at least for Tyrion's comfort. Therefore he had fled to the North with some of his loyal _friends_ and they were just leaving Castle Cerwyn when one of his footman told him of trouble in Torrhen's Square. They couldn't allow themselves Jaime's recklessness despite the dire situation they were in, so they had to make do with horses for the sake of pretending in front of their human hosts. Such was the reason of their delay. Jaime knew better, he knew his brother couldn't fly with as much hastiness as others and didn't appreciate being overpowered by his acolytes. His powers lay elsewhere, yet they made him no less fearsome.

 

Tyrion and his acolytes had imagined Cersei was going to arrive to Castle Cerwyn since it was the closest to Winterfell, to then proceed to attack Jaime and Brienne in Winterfell yet they had been mistaken. Tyrion continued telling Jaime that according to his brief interview with Lord Tallhart, his lordship and ladyship had been locked with their servants in the basement. Probably two days ago, they were too famished and scared to know for sure. After ordering Pod to help organize some sort of order in that residence, to cover any trace of vampire assault, he had decided to observe his brother and lo and behold he found him attempting to suck his lady in all the wrong ways. Neither the reference nor the scorn was appreciated by Jaime. He protested, abandoning his dead prey momentarily, insisting in respect for his lady and accidentally spatting some blood on Tyrion's rich boots in his strong demonstration of anger. No one was to speak of Brienne in such terms, not even his brother. Tyrion could tell it had been a _faux pas_ yet he seemed to be suffering from a strange case of verbiage. After apologizing hastily he continued, now assuring Jaime that he was going to keep an eye on Cersei, both because she had exposed herself to humans and for Jaime's sake.

 

His younger brother kept complaining how Cersei’s foolish actions were going to jeopardize his chances of an alliance with the Coven of the Red Empress, the most powerful of all covens. It seemed Tyrion had been trying very hard to associate with them and Cersei's little adventure would soon be known to them, he feared. Jaime couldn't register most of that part of Tyrion's diatribe since he cared little about such covens. His young brother had to make an effort to convince the confused Lord Tallhart that Brienne and Jaime had driven the culprits from his home, but it was in a calamitous state. Luckily the aforementioned Lord was not even sure of what had caused so much destruction, Tyrion assured him, and it wasn't going to take much to convince Lord Tallhart that it had been a group of bandits. What Tyrion feared was that one of the servants or the Lady Tallhart herself was not going to be so easily persuaded. Jaime knew Tyrion's fears were unfounded. His brother's skills in conversation were far greater than Jaime's and his charm could be very convincing. When Jaime tried to lighten his brother’s mood by insisting he should indicate the Lord Tallhart that he was also part of the party that expelled the bandits his brother only shook his head and told him that humans could be gullible but not that much. Even if it was true and even if they believed him, no human was ever going to admit he had been saved by an imp.

 

Despite being confident of his loyal friends, his younger brother warned Jaime that Cersei could probably not be contained for long. She had too many fledging vampires and lovers in her grasp. Even with her difficult personality she still attracted loyalty. Tyrion recommended to him that to avoid humans would be the best choice. Jaime had no idea how he could achieve that, let alone convince Brienne of it. Tyrion insisted on them taking refuge at Casterly Rock, where most of his _friends_ were, but Jaime couldn't decide for Brienne. He had even less right to after the terrible incident they had just suffered.

 

After discussing briefly with Lord Tallhart, Brienne went back to Winterfell by horse. The very same horse he had given her, it seemed a century ago now. Only her involuntary grimaces and limp showed the pain she felt. Jaime followed her, but in his own way, there was no time to stay with her at that slow pace because he needed to lock himself in his room before it dawned. Besides, he wasn't going to fool himself, he knew he would need a long conversation with her after their mishap. Brienne had said nothing to him, had not even looked at him once they reached Winterfell. He heard her tell the Lord and Lady Stark that a group of bandits was roaming the area, that they had attacked Lord Tallhart and his family and to asked them to be careful, especially in the night. Brienne told them about the letter as well but indicated that it was probably forged by the bandits, since Lady Sansa was not there. Lady Catelyn seemed worried about Lady Sansa, saying it was still odd how she didn't reply any letters. They were extremely concerned about Brienne's bruises as well and coerced her to accept proper treatment for them despite her protests. That was the last he heard before his senses slumbered.

 

When the sun finally set he saw no escape of a discussion with the Lord and Lady Stark. The only thing he longed for was to talk with Brienne but they were adamant in their demands of holding a meeting with him. He recounted the same story they had heard from Brienne and excused himself for not having reported the incident the moment he arrived but indicated he had been injured and needed to rest. At some point they finally asked how he did manage to leave and come back, since yesterday they had noticed only Brienne's horse missing. Displaying his most charming smile and actively coating his words, he insisted that he had gone and came back on Brienne's horse. A lass who worked with the horses was about to protest when Jaime insisted again and stared right into her eyes as he pronounced every word with complete conviction. Soon everyone in that room, including the man who had seen the Lady Brienne return alone, was completely sure they had seen him and the stable boy even insisted he had said it from the very beginning. He took advantage of the discussion to insist on how much it pained him that the cold forced him to stay in bed until that late. They all agreed it was indeed a pity. Jaime didn't think much about that particular skill anymore, he knew very well how to use it and in what measure, excessive exertion could damage the memory of the humans. Curiously, at the beginning he had seldom tried using it with Brienne, and lately never even once. He had committed enough offenses and though Brienne had no way of finding out he didn't want to affront her even more. Besides she was so stubborn it had little to no effect on her. She seemed to be able to cloak her emotions, at least some of them. Or perhaps she could only hide them from him. More than anything, he felt it would be improper and it would pain him greatly to try and coerce her into anything at all. Such an honest creature, it would pain him to change her character in any way.

 

When he finally saw her he took solace in observing that she was recovering extremely well from her wounds. Brienne was courteous but distant. Her ruined cheek was covered with some cloth but what puzzled Jaime was that it seemed she was no longer in pain. Such a wound could have been infected, caused her fever, but nothing of the sort occurred. Not only did that wound seem to be on its way to being healed, but the other lesions were causing her no soreness either. She had surely been hurt by Cersei. He had seen her the day before and noticed her agony when she moved. Where had the pain gone? It was indeed peculiar. Despite its strangeness, he was thankful for her fast recovery, but not for her coldness. She didn't force him out of the house but neither did she acknowledge his presence. Whatever he did she kept turning her back on him and looking for someone else's company. Frustrated with Brienne's avoidance he left to the forest to hunt, hoping some bandit really was roaming around. He was lucky enough to find two such highwaymen, and he disposed of them quickly and painlessly. They didn't even know when they died. After twisting their heads and burying them, he went swiftly back to Winterfell. Though he hadn't felt any unusual presence, he knew that the Dragon Lady could still appear out of nowhere. What if she decided to strike next? Cersei was imprisoned now, but for how long? To complete his dilemma now Brienne wasn't even talking to him. Of course she had reasons to detest him, but he had to talk to her. In some way she surely knew that he had no means of protecting her without remaining close. Had he really wanted to, he could have killed her. She had to know it had not been intentional. It was the most impossible and pathetic situation he had been in with her since he met her. Had she not been haunted by Cersei and the Dragon Lady he might have just left her alone, but that was not the case. Even the few moments he had seen her leaving with Rose he feared for her, yet he had noticed how well fed the red-haired girl was and focused on his own feeding instead. He had been so weak... Not a single part of him wished to abandon his lady, stubborn and difficult as she was, he wanted to remain by her side. However he also wanted to heed her wishes. It was more than comprehensible that she wanted to be left alone, to be free from him and from his kind. Yet neither Cersei nor the irascible Dragon Lady could be convinced to leave her in peace. He had to remain somewhat close.

 

Jaime feared Brienne was going to avoid him hereafter, but to his surprise she went to her room as usual, already changed into her sleeping clothes and looking for all the world to be proceeding normally when she met him waiting for her there. But still she didn't speak to him. She was grabbing some sheets when he realized what she was doing, she was getting ready to leave and sleep in another room. He couldn't stand her silence and behavior any longer.

 

“My lady, we should leave for another place,” he said to her in a grave tone.

 

“We? What has you so convinced, Ser, that I would abandon any place under no other particular excuse than a simple demand of yours? Why do you assume so easily that I will go with you?” Her tone was irritated and dispassionate as she continued to gather her belongings.

 

“We have already discussed this, Brienne,” he said exasperated. He had no time for pretenses. And he couldn't accept pretenses from her.

 

“And I was right, I am nothing but food for you, Ser,” she snapped, throwing the sheets to the floor violently.

 

“Do you honestly believe that I would have entered that place if my intention was to murder you? There's plenty of prey everywhere, I don't _need_ to kill you, do not think you are that irresistibly appetizing,” he said in rage, before thinking the words through. He regretted them immediately.

 

In one quick movement she grabbed and unsheathed the sword that was lying next to her bed, Oathkeeper, and pointed it towards him. The reminiscence of that night he crawled through the balcony at the Stark's house involuntarily curled his lips into a smile, for the tiniest of minutes and just a little. The stern look in Brienne's face forced him to halt immediately. This was not a moment for jokes or old, fond memories.

 

“That's precisely the problem Ser, appetizing or not, I will not allow you to take me or any other in this house,” and Oathkeeper pierced the air next to Jaime's right shoulder.

 

Jaime evaded her, not without some difficulty. The confidence and pace in Brienne's assaults had changed. Her sword cut through the air with a whipping and menacing sound. The arcs she drew with it were more precise and she wouldn't flinch or halt in her attempts to hurt him.

 

 _Could it be? No, it wasn't enough..._ he thought, slightly perturbed.

 

“My Lady, what is the meaning of this?” He said as he scarcely dodged one of her attacks.

 

“I am not a lady, and I am not _your_ lady,” she grunted with fury and her pace quickened again. Left, right, up and down, her movements were different, she was different. How she attacked him, it was quicker and more calculated. Despite being in a room with some decorations and chairs, she managed to display extreme precision in her assaults and never once touched the furniture, furs or clothes in the room. All her strikes were exclusively directed at Jaime. The control she exhibited in her attacks and her own posture were remarkable, not once did she unbalance a single object. Her face was also uncharacteristically devoid of emotions, she didn't grimace before launching an attack as she used to. She was actually trying to inflict real pain, her aim was to hurt him and possibly kill him.

 

Jaime found himself less and less capable of escaping her precise attacks until she finally got him pinned against the wall.

 

“Brienne, what are you planning to do?” He asked weary of Brienne's strange behavior.

 

“Listen to me, Ser. I want you to leave, it was a mistake to let you into my father's house, it was a mistake to bring you here and I am tired of committing the same mistakes. But before you depart I want you to swear you will never hurt anyone in this house or mine, you will never hurt my father or my family, you will never attack Lady Lyanna, or Lady Sansa or their families, whatever they do.” Jaime felt compelled to obey immediately but he noted something that rooted him to the place. Despite Brienne looking like she would chop his head off at any moment he started perceiving a scent that distracted him. However precarious his situation was he noted that in the mist of her fury, there was something else... fear? No, it was something else entirely. Something emanated faintly from Brienne. But it was an emotion so completely opposite to the one she seemed to express he was not sure if what he perceived was just his imagination. Though he knew very well, it could not be a construction of his mind what he sensed through his nose. The scent was real and as the seconds passed he was startled to realize it kept becoming more powerful.

 

“I swear it Brienne, I will never hurt anyone of the Stark family or yours, and whatever they do I will never hurt them. I will keep the promise I already gave you and now I will keep this other promise as well. I swear it.”

 

 _Man without honor_ … _Oathbreaker... Kingslayer..._

 

A ghost from his past screamed at him, but he shut him up. There were more pressing matters at the moment. He couldn't become absorbed by that.

 

His words seemed to relax her slightly but he continued, fully aware of the potential negative effects of his next inquiry, yet he couldn't help himself “Brienne, what is the real reason behind this?”

 

Brienne became angry again and replied almost crying “You can kill anyone you want but I know you choose so put an end to your pretensions with me. Despite all, I know you. You don't just kill at random. What I miserably fail to understand is why do you continue to follow me, and why did you enter that estate exactly? What did you expect to achieve? It could have meant your death, yet you were completely aware of that weren’t you? It was folly, the most foolish thing that you could have done. Why did you do that? Why did you risk your life for me? What am I to you?” At the end of her inquiry her voice was ragged, she was shaking and on the verge of tears.

 

Carefully, he moved away from the tip of her sword. Blinking away her tears, she looked with suspicion in her eyes. Raising both hands to show he had no ill intentions he attempted to approach her. Brienne followed his movements with her sword, making his advancing impossible and he became extremely weary of the situation.

 

 _I might as well risk it_ , he thought foolishly.

 

He tried evading her sword, as he had once before, pretending to attack from one direction to then shift to another midway. Maybe she had improved too much, maybe it was a mistake to try the same technique twice on her, or maybe Jaime was weary of fighting. Whatever the reason this time it had failed him. Oathkeeper pierced through his right arm. Instead of recoiling, Jaime only continued approaching her, forcing the sword to pierce him deeper and even running through him. It was painful, tissue being broken and pushed as it made room for the sword that had a slightly warmer feel than he remembered. Nevertheless, the pain was nothing compared to the one that entering Torrhen's Square had been. She seemed surprised by his actions and almost lost her grasp of the sword, but as he came to her grabbing both of her hands, she reinforced her hold on it.

 

She trembled as he touched her.

 

Taking advantage of her lack of concentration he moved her so that she was the one against the wall now. As her back touched the wall, she loosened her grip on Oathkeeper again. Finally, he took it away from her. Removing the sword from his right arm he threw it to the floor, he was bleeding but he knew that soon the wound would close. So he pressed his body against hers, forgetting his pain and concentrating on her. Her arms hung to her sides, and her hands were tightened into fists with such force she was surely going to hurt herself. She became tensed but did not push him away, only looked at him with a mix of hurt, anger and confusion.

 

With his left hand on her face he closed their distances slowly, to allow her time to react in case she wanted to, and pressed his lips on hers. They were as warm, full and chapped as always, and despite how unappealing he once found them and how lightly they kissed, the sole contact with those lips and the shy attempts of Brienne's lips to respond were enough to set his veins aflame. Leaning back, he pressed his forehead to hers and staring right at her eyes he spoke. “You are someone I cannot lose. And I'm sorry, I am deeply sorry I lost control, I was too weak. I was almost devoid of blood, my actions can't be soon forgiven, it is clear, but they weren't intentional. Our instinct of survival is far too great, I wasn't aware of what I was doing. It is perfectly understandable that you find it difficult to believe, yet I swear if I had been conscious and in any way in control of myself that would have never happened. Please believe me when I say that I am deeply sorry for it. I want nothing else but to be able to heed your command, yet the dangers that surround you are only increasing in their deadliness. I can't leave you now. I must remain close to protect you. If you want me too, I can sleep outside. I can find myself a cave, you don't need to see me, yet I must remain close to you.”

 

The scent intensified in strength, it was confusing but he tried to overlook it. Her momentary surrender had past and she was back in her initial tensed state.

 

“You do realize this is futile?” She replied, grinding her teeth “You will live forever and I'll die one day, if not by a normal death then maybe killed by your sister. Maybe there will be another fight and _you_ will kill me.” Despite her tension Brienne didn't push him away. Instead she seemed restless, fighting any attempts of movement on his part but not moving herself. However it was her words that hurt him the most.

 

“No, that is not going to happen, I will prevent it, I won't allow it.” _I have to prevent it,_ he thought in desperation, yet he added in a poor attempt to gain at least a smile from her, “and if I am close to hurting you, next time just chop one of my hands. Or what about my head? You just showed me you are quite capable of it.”

 

The wound on his arm wouldn't close, wouldn't heal, it was past time it did yet it kept bleeding and tainting Brienne's linen shirt as well now that they were so close to each other. Her eyes flickered to the ever blooming bloodstain and then she shook her head with a sad smile that hurt him even more. Her beautiful blue eyes showed defeat. “This is madness. You, me, all of it...” Her tone was one of such sadness he felt compelled to reply yet she kept talking. “But I will not escape and I will not be defeated without a fight. It will be wise for you, not to intervene next time such fight occurs,” she said in her commanding voice.

 

“My lady, when have I deluded you so into believing that I can possibly be wise?” He whispered in her ear and caressed her hair tenderly.

 

The scent grew stronger once again, surging over him. Her pupils dilated, and she sighed, her hands still tensed into fists and she was even beginning to sweat. Her blood ran to her cheeks, her neck, and other areas as well. Areas he shouldn't think about. With each passing second she was growing warmer and warmer. It was all too odd but he still tried to disregard it, despite the effect it had on him. He wanted to tell her that she was not going to die, that he would help her, protect her, that she was sacred to him. That is, until she started kissing him. She moved with an urgency she had never expressed before. Without much effort she pushed him to the bed and moved on top of him, pressing his body with hers, her legs trapping his. Her hands caressed him, burned him. Their tongues met in a collision of boiling waves and he stroked her hair, and moved his hands lustfully to her back. She sighed and held him closer, caressing his face, and then delicately moving her fingers towards his neck and past his collarbone to finally rest on the top button of his shirt. He was surprised when her shaking fingers started to work the fastenings apart.

 

Leaning back and staring at her in surprise he asked, “Brienne, why?” She shut him up with her mouth, but he pushed her away gently and insisted. “Why? Brienne, do you realize the consequences of your actions, of what you are pursuing? Are you aware or are you out of your own senses?”

 

He should have stopped them. Though he desperately wanted her, there was an eerie quality to Brienne's change of mood. As if she wasn't quite herself, but at the same time as if all her walls had suddenly collapsed, as if she was letting herself be more relaxed, allowing herself more freedom with him. Had he not desired her to do so that much, he might have noticed how odd it was, he might have decided to put an end to the folly they were about to commit. Yet Brienne's body was emanating such an alluring scent it was intoxicating and it made thinking a difficult task.

 

She seemed annoyed at his reluctance, her beautiful blue eyes showed determination but there was also a glint there he had never seen before. Forcing his hands out of the way she pressed her lips to him again. She backed away only enough so that only their noses were touching slightly at their tips. Softly she whispered while looking straight into his eyes. “Those whose lives are to be cut short shouldn't dwell on matters of purity, for they lose all significance.”

 

Dismally he realized the truth hidden behind her fierceness. _She thinks she will die. She is truly convinced that she will be killed. It's a desperate attempt. We shouldn't proceed down this path._

“Brienne I swear, I won't allow-”but she put a finger over his mouth, kindly but firm,

 

“Leave the promises for those who can keep them, for those who are among the living,” she replied with a soft yet firm voice.

 

 _She isn't convinced by my words because I failed her, she believes what Cersei told her._ He remembered some of the poisonous words he had heard Cersei throw at her, she had been cruel and had put doubts in Brienne's mind and some seemed to have taken root there. Even then he still found difficulty in arranging a coherent thought in the dense fog that was forming with her increasingly stronger scent. _Incredulous wench, I will show you that this can't be feigned,_ he thought decidedly.

 

And this time he removed her hand from his face, grabbing her shirt he pulled her to his mouth and kissed her hungrily. Grunting and moaning, he moved her so that he was on top of her, she resisted but he pushed harder, making his wound bleed more profusely from the effort. He disregarded every pain and held her tighter. Desperately stroking her hair and her back, then slowly moving one hand to her belly, sensing how her skin underneath the fabric grew warmer and how a path of goosebumps was forming as his hands wandered over never before explored territory. Her heart was drumming faster and faster, causing him to even fear it could break through skin and leave her chest. The scent was becoming omnipresent, clouding his thoughts and making him wilder. Suddenly he remembered she needed to breathe, so he left her mouth but only to kiss her cheeks and behind her ears, her jaw and neck, slowly yet ardently. Her breathing was ragged and though her eyes remained shut and unreadable, her fingers frantically held his shirt and at some point when his mouth was busy kissing her neck she had started to pull his shirt upwards. Jaime was about to protest again, to indicate that she should reconsider her actions. It had been enough, he had proved how much she meant and what he felt and that crossing that line could hurt her. But her left hand moved with impressive haste to the back of his head and she forced him to her mouth, silencing him once more. The scent grew stronger once more and Jaime finally succumbed to its alluring power. Opening his mouth, he let his tongue coerce her lips so that she would open hers, which she slowly did and he let himself get lost in the flaring feeling of Brienne's tongue.

 

Almost in tandem they each tore open the other's shirt, and as her fingers caressed timidly his neck, collarbone and stomach, his hands mirrored her actions but with added fierceness. She shuddered and gasped as more of her skin became exposed to his hands and all of her body fluids told him it had absolutely nothing to do with how cold his hands were. Her hands trailed slowly upwards, tenderly divesting him of his chemise, taking special care with his wounded arm. For someone so strong, she was incredibly gentle. He wasn't so gentle when he pulled her blouse from her shoulders and threw it to the floor, yet he stroked her exposed body with softness. Carefully memorizing every freckle with hands and eyes, reveling in the feel of her, noting how her skin yielded to the weight of his fingers and how her heart and breath became increasingly faster. Turning flames to a raging bonfire, her fingers trailed greedily down his back and he was again a human pyre, burning wilder and stronger by the minute. They felt each other in eager despair, changing the tide and charging the air, their rhythm drifted from a slow discovery to a frenzied exploration. They removed their remaining clothes as if they were fighting. With grunts and moans, fists were replaced by kisses. Even after managing to uncover what remained to be exposed of their skin, they still fought, struggling for dominance. Who would move? Who would be staring down at whom? Hands urgently moved all over each other: hair, face, neck, shoulders, abdomen and then up again and only by little did he manage to push her to the bed while removing her smallclothes.

 

Her blistering hot skin was smooth despite her muscles. He was elated at the feeling of simply pressing his fingers on her skin, at being able at last to caress all that white land, with its constellations of scattered dots, without restriction. Finally he could follow the path of her freckles like he had wanted to. He made sure there was not a single part of Brienne's body he had not kissed, licked or sucked. He was grateful of the big _meal_ he had had hours before. There was no part of her that didn't smell appetizing. Her neck, her hands, her arms and legs, even her toes all smelled deliriously delicious. Though it should, not even her ruined cheek under the cloth had a foul aroma. Its perfume was as sweet as the rest of her. He took a long time with her nipples and a longer still at the juncture of her thighs. She arched her back, grunted, and buried her nails in his scalp and moaned while he kissed and licked her there until she began to spasm violently. She muffled her screams by biting the pillow, almost tearing it to pieces. He knew what she wanted, and felt sorry that this was all he could offer her at the moment. The pleasure she could receive with his lower body part was nothing compared to the one they could both enjoy if she turned one of his kind. One day maybe, she would be able to feel as he did and they could share so much more.

 

Notwithstanding he was grateful, Brienne burned him and he enjoyed it more than he could have ever suspected. When he left her slit and placed himself next to her he paused to admire his bedmate. Her hair was disheveled and wild as her eyes, her cheeks were red and so were her lips. The rush of blood colored her chest red as well, caused by the climax she had just reached. If he could he would keep her forever in that state, frozen in that moment. _But I actually can_. The thought vanished when she caressed his face and closed the distances between their bodies, opening her legs to receive him. He could see she was struggling to be brave, and he kissed her while he penetrated her. She shut her eyes and bit the tender tissue of the inside of her lips. Had he not heard it as it formed or tasted it just seconds before, he would have been surprised by her moisture. She was warm and unsurprisingly tight, and she breathed in and out in an attempt to control the pain. He thrust into her slowly, making the best effort to not cause any damage.

 

Later her lips parted and she opened her eyes slowly, they were the most beautiful sight he had ever seen, a ferocious sea clear after a storm. Without breaking eye-contact, their hips moved. He let her decide the pace as they began to move together. She seemed to enjoy having some sort of control, even then, on her back with him over her and inside her. Her nails sank into his back and he knew that had he been a normal man she would have hurt him badly. Their rhythm changed and it became faster, frenzied, and he placed a finger between them, to caress the sensitive area that would help her to climax. Soon she was almost reaching her peak once more, but at some point during their lovemaking they had thrown the pillow to the floor. For this reason she screamed his name against his neck instead. Then, as Jaime felt himself boiling over, his awareness was elevated to an even higher state of pleasure as Brienne bit the skin of his neck fiercely, tearing it, and sucked.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay but I traveled so didn't have time to do this before. Hope it doesn't sound way too confusing, more to be clarified in future chapters (obviously). I am very grateful for every person who reads this and specially to those who left kudos and comments. Any ideas, fears or theories you might have, don't hesitate to share it here.


	15. A pebble in the waves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne, her confused feelings and a decision to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to H3L for all the work in improving this chaos, I think I gave her extra headaches with this one .

Of one thing she was sure, she needed to get rid of him. The need to cut him to pieces was almost as strong as her _other_ need. She had no use for it and had no way of knowing how to manage it and only wished to bury it deep with her fury. The dream she had the previous night was so preposterous in its vulgarity that she was unsure if she was more offended by it in itself or by the fact that she had woken up moaning and sweaty. Even her juncture was so wet it affronted her. Such urgencies were completely foreign.

 

In her dream he was still human, golden and painfully handsome, but human. They were in a forest she had never seen, yet it seemed in her dream she knew her way through it. The forest wasn't the only oddity. Their attires were of a kind she hadn't seen before except in her father’s old books. In that peculiar world she had an unfamiliar feeling of loss, as if someone very important to her had died. It felt as if she had failed so miserably to protect that person and she carried her heavy guilt everywhere she went. When she woke up she forgot who the person was, however much she tried she couldn't remember. The pain had seemed to be so heavy on her chest in the dream, but the more she tried to picture the face of the one she had failed the more it seemed to elude her. She did remember Jaime and her traversing the dense forest together, and the strangeness of their relationship in her dream. It was completely different from what they had now. For some reason, he was her prisoner and she was on a quest to save the Lady Sansa. He’d looked tired, famished and his clothes were dirty but his smile was still the same. It could cut like a blade. In a way he was of paramount importance to the little Lady's safety, though the details were unclear once she woke up. She remembered she kept calling him a strange moniker, a malicious one... something about a slayer. Kinslayer? Kingslayer? She couldn't recall. She wasn't alone in the handling of derogatory terms, her dream of Jaime was insufferable and relentless on his foul verbal abuse towards her. Not only did he keep calling her _wench_ , the most unchivalrous of statements left his mouth with the facility others had to whistle sweet songs. 

 

"I'm strong enough" he claimed salaciously, insinuating his alleged ability to overpower her, tear away her clothes and pleasure her. 

 

"Not interested," she’d replied, avoiding his eyes.

 

"Of course you are. You would love to know what it feels like to be a woman," he continued easily when she rejected him. 

 

There came a moment when they fought by a river and he was one of the best swordsmen she had ever seen, though their style of the sparring was absolutely foreign to her. She had never before observed the techniques they were using, yet both seemed skilled in the art. Even when she was defeating him he jested and abused her with his words. Despite his awful behavior, at some point in their journey his bravado broke to pieces and he was suddenly honest to her again. He confided in her his most horrible secrets. Once more he painfully bared his soul to her, unexpectedly; they were both in a bath, naked, baring their bodies in some odd symmetry. Suddenly he was fainting, wounded in ways she couldn’t remember. Crimson droplets ran thickly through him, endlessly, tainting the waters of the bath they shared. Desperately she ran to him and when she finally reached Jaime, she held him before he fell to the water. The vapors of the bath grew denser and their surroundings swirled and changed abruptly. They were in her room, back in Tarth on her island, yet there was something completely different in the air. 

 

When she looked down at the man she held in her arms, she saw that Jaime was awake and fully recovered, yet he was no longer a man. His eyes, his skin...they were of that unnatural shade she knew best. Suddenly he stood up and embraced her strongly. The coldness of his arms and body surprised her, but soon she forgot everything as he started exploring her with his hands in places she had never been touched before. She succumbed to his touches and kisses far too easily, as a maid might on her wedding day. She knew of no maiden that would have screamed and moaned as she had. The level of the improprieties committed by them after that would have even surpassed the expectations of the lowest of establishments. She had even awoken mid moan! The thoughts that stirred in her mind caused by the bizarre dream were not proper for a lady. It was impure; she shouldn't feel the way she did. She should be angry instead. He had made a promise not to hurt her, and he had broken it. 

 

Brienne berated herself, she should have known. Jaime was not a human, he was a monster. A monster that preyed on humans and she was nothing but another human. Another prey. She was nothing but an amusement, a plaything. The moment he had torn her skin and sucked her blood had been a revelation. She had woken up from the fantasy and was forced to face the facts. How he fought to cling to her neck had been harrowing, all the strength she had left was necessary to disentangle herself from Jaime regardless of his wounds. This was the monster that slept beneath his skin, she had fallen for a monster. Her stupidity had put in jeopardy not only Lady Lyanna's family, but her own as well. The Lady Lyanna, who had been so gracious, and given her the honor of practicing with her at Winterfell. And the Lady Sansa, who had been so sweet to her, insisting in Brienne visiting. She had even committed the atrocity of taking him to Lord Renly's wedding! Good Lord Renly, who had been so kind to her, treated her as if she were a proper lady. The more she stood near Jaime, the more she was forced to lie and to deconstruct situations and mold them into something that suited him. Even now she was forced to repay the hospitality of the Starks with foul lies to cover for him and for the wounds she had won by exposing herself to these creatures. If she wished to continue associating with demons, it was her own doing. These innocent people on the other hand... what had they done to deserve it? Exposing all these good people to him, interweaving their lives with his, had been a mistake. What had she been thinking about? Her actions had been despicable. She’d had enough. She had brought this misery upon them, she had to be the one to deal with it. 

 

Still, she avoided him, delaying her duty for as long as possible. He looked as astonishing as ever that afternoon. It made her heart constrict in her chest. Not a single bit of evidence remained of the terrible state he had been in the night before, when she had carried him away from the Tallhart residence. No one would have believed that the golden lion that was cleaned and dressed in rich embroidery before her had been on the verge of death only the day before. His extreme beauty, the fast recovery, those eyes and that porcelain skin, he was elegantly frightening. Nevertheless, part of her wanted to leave him, for just one more night. She knew he would try and talk to her, that he would wait for her in her room. Intentionally, she avoided him, treating him as she would the steepest and pointiest of rocks on the shore. Not any shore, a particular shore that she knew too well.

 

From a very tender age she had been a capable swimmer. Galladon had drowned when she was too young to remember, and she was forced to learn despite her initial fear and reluctance. Her father was adamant in his decision. "No heir of Tarth can fear its waters," he had said the only time he heard her complain. He had been right, and later she was grateful for his insistence. It took her some years to understand that what she had taken as toughness was actually a fatherly fear. He couldn't bear the thought of losing another child to the deceitful waves around their island. Despite her freakishness, he still loved her. In time she even had a favorite swimming spot on her island, she was not a day older than 8 years when she found it. If she closed her eyes she could still see that pale little girl she had once been. Her eyes wide with wonder, her hand busy working on removing her boots to then fill her lungs with air as she breathed in and gave a step forward, defying wind and rocks and sea. The skin of her feet protested as they came in contact with the harsh surface of the cold stones. She held her breath, both for fear of that paradise melting and disappearing into nothingness and to be able to endure the pain of treading the path of jagged pebbles. The waters were so exquisitely clear at her special spot that she could easily distinguish the depths to which it extended after the first few meters of shallow surface. Colorful rocks and moss were dispersed at the bottom, forming a painting a mosaic of wonderful variety of shades and shapes on the pool floor. The breath-taking beauty of that place was worth all the scolding she’d received once she returned to where her and her father had been camping. Lady Roelle had promised to control her better, yet once she told her father about her little secret he’d winked at her approvingly. She had managed to sneak out to her special place again and again, especially as she grew older. To arrive there one had to descend carefully through treacherous rocks, slippery slopes and steep paths. Even sunny days it was difficult enough to access, on windy days it would be madness to attempt to reach her hidden paradise, and once there specials skills and a thick skin were required to avoid getting hurt by the smaller, pointy rocks and pebbles that paved the way. Many times she tiptoed her way to the shore, and even as she reached the water it was only when she could float that she found relief. In those moments all the soreness was forgotten. With that same care she prepared herself for the difficult task ahead, delaying it, yet hoping beyond hope that once the moment came to deal with Jaime she would succeed in expelling him and the calm would then come to her. She would again find relief in swimming in lonely, but familiar waters. Waters where he wasn't invited, and therefore could not go.

 

However when she faced him, her skin screamed at her, begged her, not to push him away but to pull herself closer to him. An unnatural creature had taken over her limbs. She felt overwhelmed by the need to be with him. Jaime had to leave immediately to prevent her from losing composure, to avoid losing her grasp on reality and falling into his endlessness. She fought the urge as she fought Jaime, and expected that her rudeness would push him away. It hadn't. Being in front of him and staring into his eyes, she couldn't help but remember that he had saved her. That he had danced with her and cheered for her in the tournament. Jaime had put her life first, had tried to fight Cersei, the one he had loved for centuries, all for Brienne. He had given her his sword, the same sword that was now piercing his arm and setting livid red blossoms blooming incessantly on his sleeve to taint them both. She knew of his strength and she knew that had he wanted to, he could kill her in any second. He could disarm her easily, but he was letting her hurt him instead. Theirs was becoming a destructive relationship. He would have died for her. He would have killed for her. He would have bled himself dry for her. She shouldn't allow it. Although Jaime was a monster, somehow she didn't want him to die. He was not entirely a terrible creature; she could tell that he had true feelings. His human emotions were the reason he behaved so erratically. 

 

And she still loved him. Idiotic as they were, she couldn't change her own pathetic leanings.

 

A kiss eroded her resolution to expel him. When he pressed his lips to hers she knew she had lost, and though she fought against his urgency with her remaining strength Brienne started to recognize defeat. She held her breath when his lips left her and when they came again as a strong wave, she had yielded to them. She was like a little pebble on the shore, tossed away by the force of the cold water. Stubbornly, she persisted. As if it would help. As if holding her breath and tensing her body would suffice to endure the onslaught of his presence, of his kiss. Jaime Lannister was fiercer than the waters of Tarth, and just as cold. And the floor beside him was paved with slippery, pointy and more treacherous stones than the ones she had seen on any shore in her memory. No, she wasn't on her precious beach, holding her breath wouldn't save her from the force of the waves. She could drown in these waters, for they were completely unfamiliar to her. At least on her island, at her spot, she knew the way, difficult as it was. It held no more secrets. The path she was walking through now, the path to Jaime, was a mystery and the ground wasn't as solid as the rocks she knew by heart. Ahead of her she only saw a hill, with an abrupt, sharp end, and further ahead only blackness. She was supposed to continue walking, but she did not know the way. 

 

Brienne held no delusions. There was no doubt she was going to die. It was just a matter of time. Even this night could be her last one. Her chances of defeating Cersei were so slim, that if she vanquished the lioness it would be in such a difficult match that Brienne would surely soon follow her into the earth. On the very unlikely chance she survived, Cersei Lannister was by no means the only other one of their kind. She couldn't forget that strange little man that had come to their rescue nor the two men that had come with him. And that colorful red-haired woman that had been extremely kind to her yet had an air of oddity about her. And that hadn't been all. Jaime's irregular behavior that day near the trees, when she discovered another extreme abnormality about him, that he could fly, was indicative enough of another, perhaps even greater, danger. That foul coldness that preceded an attack was unmistakeable. It would not be completely strange to assume Cersei was not her only foe. Why should she fight this increasing urge, if death could claim her at any second? 

 

Nobody was ever going to marry her. Even if she survived her chances of finding a proper suitor were slight. She would only continue to disappoint her father. It was quite possible that not even her lands could move someone to try to stand her; she was ugly, muscular, tall, unfeminine and not at all desirable. No man would want her, as they have not wanted her from the beginning. The exception was always Jaime. It might be that, her complete lack of desirability, which made a monster like Jaime become attached to her. And even if he was a monster, she had become attached to him as well. He was _her_ monster now. Her maids were probably not alone in suspecting that something untoward was already happening between herself and her guest. Even that red-haired creature, the one who had been so kind to Brienne, had alluded to the special connection they had. She had made salacious comments about Jaime's appearance and how happy he must make her. If one of _them_ who had only seen her once could believe it, and if her maids too could believe it, how many others could think she was no longer a maiden? How many could believe her honor to be besmirched? 

 

Her dispute with Cersei had even inserted into her mind the idea that she was already not as chaste as she thought herself to be. Despite not laying with him, she had already allowed him to touch her face, her neck... she had touched him herself as they had kissed. Their kisses were, undoubtedly, not innocent. Already they had done so much that would cost Brienne her good name. And who would believe in her purity at this point? She had already been tainted, what did it matter? What does anything matter, really, in the face of death? All these thoughts, mingled with his closeness, his smell, and his deep green eyes only made resistance more difficult. Every stare, every word, he said as he caressed her, was a wave of that dangerous feeling. Each one hit her with increasing strength. She was a defenseless pebble being hurled about in treacherous waters. Then Jaime looked at her as if she was a precious thing, one that he wanted to protect desperately, and touched her with such sweetness and delicacy…she couldn't take it anymore. The strength of his current was suddenly too much for her, and so she broke. 

 

It was liberating to give in. She closed her ears and made herself deaf to any arguments he or she could come up with as she proceeded with blind desire. It was as if she had been taken possession of, her body and head shut down all the parts of her that dealt with self-control. The world disappeared and narrowed to become only them, just Jaime and her, sweetly melting into each other. Despite her efforts not to hurt him anymore, his wound kept bleeding, though curiously, neither that nor his coldness made her flinch. She found it was quite the opposite actually. His hands on her, stroking with such tenderness and then with a chilling fierceness, thrilled her. The way he watched her as he moved, made her think for a second that in some world, maybe the one inside Jaime's mind, she could be beautiful. How he skillfully licked her juncture made her lose any trace of her shredded sense of property. She let herself drown in the pleasure that washed over her, thinking that she was risking losing her mind. Then, grabbing a pillow and screaming her raptures into it, she felt that she had. The pillow served to, at least slightly, muffle her moans when the pleasure seemed to overcome her and cause her body to writhe and spasm. The initial pain when Jaime entered her was soon forgotten as he continued to thrust against her in a frenzied manner. She bucked and thrust back, finding a suitable rhythm for them both. And when he moved against her in a perfect, specific, spot, she felt her world reduce to only that feeling of completion, of them rutting and pressed fervently together. 

 

As she reached again the highest peaks of pleasure she had only just learned existed, a rush flooded from her lower parts and reached her upper body. It was as if a command had been ushered from the depths of her deepest parts and immediately her mouth seemed to act on its own accord. In doing so, she reached another, even greater, peak. She felt elevated in a powerful rhapsody of sensation. Her mind could think of nothing, be nothing, but her mouth, and her thoughts were only of Jaime's neck and blood. As the liquid flooded into her in a ferocious torrent it brought with it a devastating trance, every part of her pulsated with a sense of tranquility, of renewal. Moments before she had felt as if the universe was inside her, but the second Jaime's blood hit her tongue, she felt expanded to an even greater plane, as if she _was_ the delightful, rapturous universe. 

 

It was not clear to her what moved her to insert her teeth into Jaime's skin and suck as he had done to her. Whatever it was, it was terribly wrong, but she had to admit to herself that it had felt a devastating and overwhelming ecstasy that was as no other earthly pleasure she had ever experienced. It even required some effort to discontinue sucking his blood. Moments before she would not have believed that she could feel anything better than their coupling, but as her throat convulsively swallowed, she did. It wasn't just the strange delirious state that puzzled her, but the invigorating feeling that came with it. She had forced herself to stop as soon as she found enough strength in herself to do so, feeling appalled by her actions. Jaime's blazing stare confused her even more than her original inclination. _Had he found pleasure in it?_ She asked herself, concerned, as she observed Jaime's inebriated state. 

 

“Forgive me, Jaime... I... I don't understand, why... I-” but the words stuck in her mouth, she was too shocked and confused to formulate any coherent thought at all.

 

Tilting his head seductively and caressing her jawline, he came closer and licked her lips slowly, on purpose, caressing the plump skin with his tongue. She yielded to the caress, sending a thrill down her spine and she moaned involuntarily. For some unfathomable reason, seeing him drinking his own blood from her lips was terribly exciting and it made her shudder. Unexpectedly, she felt a renewed heat and her juncture flushed with moisture, begging to accommodate him again, only from witnessing that bizarre behavior past the tip of her nose. 

 

 _Something is wrong with me,_ she thought, startled. There was little to nothing she knew about human pleasure, yet she imagined that it was not among the most normal of practices to enjoy the blood of one's partner, let alone one's own.

 

A foreign, inhuman, creature was taking her over. She could almost feel as it did, moving sneakily inside her. At first, she thought what had moved her towards such strange demeanor was just her desire to be with Jaime, to have him for at least one night before the black waves of nothingness would drown her. It was a desperate attempt at a night where she felt loved. Yet now she knew there was something else. The creature had pushed her towards Jaime's neck. She couldn't have done it of her own volition because she had no reason to do so.

 

“Is something happening to me, Jaime?” She asked him, worried and in fear of his reply. _Am I... no, it's not possible. It can't be._ She was suddenly terrified and couldn't dare to ask the _real_ question that burned inside her.He looked almost concerned, almost, but his face held barely concealed relief. His fingers kept toying with her hair, seemingly in an attempt to organize her rebellious tangles.“Speak to me, Jaime,” she ordered, his distraction and lack of answer moving her to anger.

 

He didn’t. Instead he gingerly removed the cloth that covered her cheek. Brienne held her breath, waiting for the pain that the air in contact with her fresh wound would cause, but oddly enough the pain never came. Instead she observed how Jaime's eyes widened in surprise before he nodded absentmindedly. Immediately she placed a hand over her wound and gasped. The ragged gash was closed, and only thin lines of dead skin indicated that she had ever been hurt. Only then it struck her how odd it was that, after suffering so many lesions and being tossed into a wall with such violence that she should have broken bones, she felt so little pain. It was unnatural. Pain and ache after hours of training were _very_ familiar to her. It was eerie how peculiarly healthy she felt after only a day of experiencing the brutality that Cersei had treated her with. A body normally takes longer to recover from such mistreatment. Where was the ache? Why weren't her muscles in pain? What happened to her wounds? 

 

Frantically she started observing and analyzing her body, searching for the places where her skin had been wounded or torn. Dismally she found that every wound, however recent, looked old. It was impossible, wounds never healed with such haste. She remembered how hurt she was just the day before, why didn't she find it odd when she woke up that she felt so little pain? And why didn't she notice that the pain had decreased as the day went by, to a point where it had almost vanished completely? How did this detail slip by her, never crossing her mind? Was she so absorbed in her problems with Jaime that she just forgot how a normal human body reacts to abuse? Dread started filling her stomach, something was definitely amiss and she feared what it was. In a curious way, she felt she knew the answer. 

 

A particular memory crossed her mind. Many nights ago she had asked Jaime how he’d managed to recover from his burning so quickly. He had been severely hurt by the sun on the same fated day she had invited him into her house. Only hours later, when she met him again, there was no sign of any injury. He had not an inch of burnt skin, not even a scar. How could his hand and face have cured themselves with such haste after being exposed to the sun, the one star that was deadly to him? 

 

It was the nourishment. It was the blood that had cured him. 

 

He had said that he needed only to feed himself to recover. A night ago she had finally acquired the knowledge that his kind preyed on human blood. Blood was what kept them alive and what had cured Jaime of his ills. It had healed him completely leaving his skin as ravishingly handsome and untainted as it had always been, or as long as she could remember. Chances were he had always been beautiful, long before he met her and long before he became what he now was. Blood kept all of his kind forever uninjured, frozen in time. Jaime had sucked her blood, and a day after that, despite all the mistreatment she had received from Cersei, her pain wasn't as great as it should have been. And just some minutes ago, she had proceeded as one of them and had sucked Jaime's blood... and her wounds were suddenly almost completely healed. 

 

“It might be... I thought that I had not taken enough, but maybe transformation can take longer. Only once... I only did it once with Tyrion. I’ve never made anyone else. That time I needed more and then he…proceeded on his own. I mean, I didn't see him but later when I found him he was fine, yes he was fine. I didn't know that one could be changed by so little blood,” he said with a confused but careful voice, as if trying to avoid alarming her. 

 

Yet his words tore at her entrails and she felt suddenly empty. Brienne shook her head in denial as if with that action she could expel the possibility of his words being true. They must not be true, she had to find a way to escape them, to revert to a state where her humanity could not be questioned, could not be in danger. She thought there had to be a way she could remain alive and mortal. Her mind searched fruitlessly in desperation for a possible escape. 

 

“No, we have to stop it,” she insisted grabbing his shoulders.

 

Cold as a wave in winter it hit her. It was useless, somehow she knew as she gripped his hard, cool flesh, it was not in the realm of possibility. She felt the doors of life closing on her forever. She felt herself being dragged away from humanity, and though she tried to hold her ground desperately she knew she was failing. The day she had opened the doors of her house to Jaime Lannister, she had closed the ones of her life. No, her mind cried to her, no...The possibility of a normal human life had been taken from her the day Cersei Lannister had laid eyes on her. That day Brienne’s fate had been marked for an abrupt end. 

 

“It can't be stopped, Brienne,” said Jaime, frowning.

 

The sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach almost forced her to her knees. Instead, she disentangled herself from him and started pacing the room, naked but well past caring about it. 

 

“Brienne, I am sorry, but if it is happening then there is no stopping it. I can't, no one can. Brienne, calm yourself. We do not even know for sure what is happening to you,” he said, looking appalled and mortified, observing her every move in awe.

 

“Liar,” she spit. “No, I refuse to become a murderer, I don't want to stop being human. No,” she shouted, ripping her eyes from him and walking to the window. She pounded the wall beside the pane of glass with her fist in despair. She was holding her ground, but the strength of the invisible foe that was pulling her away from life was growing stronger by the minute. It was like trying to pull herself from sinking sand but the ground was swallowing her up, carrying her away, despite her determined attempts. Still, she persisted.

 

“Brienne, the last thing I wanted was to forcibly change you. I admit to having considered the possibility of turning you...” She felt a flaring rage burst inside of her at his words but he continued speaking, seeking to calm her. “Yet I wanted _you_ to be the one who decided. How it came to be, it wasn't what I wanted... but there is no turning back if the change is indeed happening. Even then, don't you see? If you were to turn into one of our kind, Cersei couldn't hurt you. You will never need to fear an attack again because you would be as strong as her.” Jaime stood and tried to hold her, his features and voice showing his growing concern. It seemed as if he wanted to comfort her, but she couldn't find solace in the apparent _advantage_ this news gave her against her immortal foe.

 

“I don't care! What is the price of this safety, of this relief? Must I murder every night? Hide forever from the daylight and roam around like a wolf in search for a suitable prey? I will not kill people.” She avoided looking at him, escaping from his grasp and walking away nervously. Hopelessly she sought a solution. Her mind rushed to the different implications of her changing, becoming one of them. She knew what these creatures were and she knew they needed human blood, urgently. She also knew that the hunger it caused in them could make the most distinguished gentleman plunge into a frenzied search for it, in which he would take and kill the first moving being that would serve the purpose of nourishing him. They were strong, but their hunger made them weak. They couldn't fight it. She couldn't turn into that, she couldn’t put her family in even greater danger.

 

“You already have,” Jaime whispered in a sad but steady voice. 

 

“What?” She replied in rage and desperation, looking wildly in his direction.

 

“Those men who tried to rape Lady Sansa, those men who tried to rape you.” She stared at him, or rather through him, as she remembered those horrifying events. He took that time to approach her slowly, carefully taking her hand. She let herself be guided to the bed again. They sat and he continued speaking, holding her hand in one of his and caressing her hair and back with the other “They deserved it, you did the right thing. You saved a Lady, an innocent girl that would have been brutally assaulted, a girl that you now appreciate. And you saved yourself. For that you needed to end the lives of those who threatened to end yours, what we do is not that different.”

 

“But every day, Jaime? One murder after another, you said it yourself, only after time did you manage to be sure about the culpability of the men so you could target them. How long would it take me? In the meantime, I might kill someone innocent. No, I can't do this.” She couldn't hold her tears any longer, so she let them come and as she cried he held her gently. 

 

_Was it really unavoidable, to become a monster? A hunter? A killer?_

 

“Brienne...” Jaime’s voice was quiet and shocked, he grabbed her shoulders and squeezed. “Brienne, wait, stop…” He caressed her wet face and showed his thumb to her. “See!”

 

Confused she blinked back at him. “What am I supposed to be seeing, my own tears?”

 

Jaime lips were slightly parted in confusion and he looked pensive, but then he gave a small smile and nodded. “Of course, of course, you can't know. See, your tears are only water, but mine...” and then he paused and pressed his lips, as if he doubted what he was about to say. Finally he seemed to decide and said solemnly, “mine are blood.”

 

A small ray of hope illuminated her heart only to be immediately crushed under the weight of the evidence in front of her. Her body was not behaving normally, and she had just sucked Jaime's blood from his neck. While they were in bed and kissing, she hadn't found his blood staining them at all disgusting. It had quite a strange, exhilarating effect on her. And there was also the sneaking creature in her bones, in her own blood. No, there was without a doubt something strange happening to her, something dangerous and dark, and if it wasn’t becoming like Jaime than she didn’t know what it was. Yet she realized she held in her hands the solution to her concern. If she _was_ to become one of them, there was a practical manner to deal with her problem. What she needed was very simple and easily attainable. She just needed the sun.

 

As she analyzed this idea, Jaime's gaze on her grew more and more heavy.

 

“I am terribly sorry, Brienne, I wish I had never listened to Cersei. I wish you could continue your life as any normal human, yet I heeded her command and you are now in this distressing situation. It is my fault. However, do not believe that under any circumstance will I allow yourself to end your own life.” 

 

With his last statement, she shivered. 

 

 _How did he know?_ She wondered.It had been exactly what she was planning to do. It was the only way. Otherwise her father, Lady Sansa, Lady Lyanna... they were going to be in unnecessary peril because of her. If she let the sun burn her, they would all be free from the hazard she was to become. Maybe that monstrous lady, Cersei, would leave her family alone. Perhaps Jaime would go back to her and regain the happiness they shared so long ago. It could all find resolution, just by her embracing the sun. It would be easy and probably fast. She flinched as she remembered the first time she burned herself with a candle, trying to melt wax for a seal. She had observed her father doing it and she had wanted to emulate his actions, yet she was clumsy and her forefinger was accidentally kissed by the flame of the candle. Grunting she had let the wax fall to the floor and had put that finger in her mouth and sucked to ease the pain. She had been 5 years old when she had learned to be more careful with fire. Burning might not be a painless experience, but if that was what needed to be done she wouldn't hesitate to do it.

 

As if he had heard her thoughts, Jaime continued, “That is a fairly common practice, my lady, many before you have found it in them to end their lives, many who wanted to avoid living as I do. Many like Tysha and Shae, you will not be like them. You are stronger, Brienne, I know you are.” He said so intensely and with such searching eyes that she couldn't look at him. With both hands he held her face and placed it right in front of his. Slowly and doubtfully, she met his gaze. The earnestness she found there made her bit her lip, doubting her previous decision.

 

“The way they died... each one broke Tyrion's heart. My younger brother is very strong, and still they almost tore him apart. He survived them both. Years passed before I saw him again after Tysha's death and then decades later he met Shae. I thought she loved him, she did actually love him I think, and with such fierceness. He also thought…and then...” He swallowed. “When she became one of us she seemed happy, they were happy... Brienne, he disappeared for such a long time after Shae burned that I feared he had followed her steps... but not you. That will never be you... you believe in justice, you are honorable and fierce. My lady, don't you see? More than anyone else I know you can persevere in holding such power and not abusing it. No one other than you is better suited to use this situation in a favorable way, to be a weapon for justice. Consider it carefully, Brienne. Please... don't set yourself on fire, don't embrace the sun. Please don't leave me,” he begged her with a ragged, desperate tenderness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A perfect day for a vampire story!   
> Thanks to anyone who is reading this, and double thanks to those who leave kudos and comments. Let me know what you think, what theories and ideas you have. What do you think is going to happen next?   
> Thanks again!


	16. Foes in the snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime confronts someone from his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of thanks to H3L for her praise and her help, and also for being so quick with helping me with this!

After crying for some time, Brienne finally fell asleep. It took him some significant prodding and waiting but she finally promised Jaime she was not going to greet the sun the next morning, she did intend to kill herself. He knew that Brienne valued her word, therefore making her promise to avoid fire and sun was his only guarantee. He told her it was best if she avoided the sun hereafter, luckily for them in these lands the sun set very early. This was especially true now that winter was coming. They would hint that she had caught a cold, or Jaime would come up with something. He observed her for some time with guilty delight before leaving for his room. He was indeed very fond of her, quite probably even more so now. There was no doubt in his mind that it was not a small feat for her to have bedded him, yet he was sorry he hadn't noticed that part of her lust was obviously rooted in the change she was experiencing. Startled he realized how strongly he wished to know how much of her had really wanted him, and how much had been just the change. He was furious with himself for utterly failing to realize that her bizarre change of heart had unnatural reasons. The treacherous scent of her arousal had obfuscated his senses. Whatever it had been, he would make sure she knew he treasured her and he didn't regard her as less important for what they did. Quite the opposite, he felt he had never wanted or valued her more.

 

When Jaime rose he noticed that the wound caused by Oathkeeper still pained him. It was extremely odd. The lesion had closed but had not completely healed. He changed clothes, throwing away the bloody shirt he had used the previous day. He was lucky he had brought enough clothes with him. He was losing them at a truly ridiculous pace. That afternoon he received a letter, the moment he saw the seal he recognized it immediately. The message was simple, the contents almost unnecessary considering who sent it. Brienne almost didn't reply to him when he said he needed to go for a walk, she seemed too concentrated with her own correspondence. He saw that the seal was from Mormont House. He stopped and asked her if there was something wrong, she seemed alarmed, but the second she focused on him she noticed his worry. She turned her letter down, denied that there was a problem, and asked him from whom he had a letter and whether or not it was urgent business. 

 

“Nothing important,” he lied.

 

“Then why are you going for a walk?” She narrowed her astonishingly blue eyes at him.

 

“I need a bit of fresh air,” he shrugged before adding more softly, “I should check our surroundings, my Lady.” He winked at her as he stood to leave.

 

She looked at him suspiciously, her eyes and the slight downturn of her mouth saying quite clearly, _I know you are hiding something from me_ , but she didn't press the matter further. He kissed her hand, holding it for longer than necessary, then her forehead, promising he would be back soon. He had to be careful. Despite her appearance, it seemed that Brienne was slowly acquiring more acute senses. Soon she would be able to read his reactions as well as he read hers. He would have wanted to kiss her mouth but he knew Brienne would not appreciate such a public display of affection. In fact, when he thought about it, she looked somewhere else. She had even started drinking from her cup with such slowness it was evident what she meant by it. An unexpected urge to tell her exactly what he felt came over him, to at least whisper it in her ear. The Lady Arya approached them, to show Brienne her new sword, so he held his tongue instead and left. 

 

Jaime walked at a brisk pace, almost desperately charging towards his errand. Something told him it was not a good idea to be far from Brienne for long. It was not just her maidenhead that was behind her now, she was in the middle of her transition and that could be dangerous. He couldn't remember his own transition, and Tyrion's had been confusing and was jumbled in his mind. Moments after he transformed Tyrion, he had left his brother at Casterly Rock to hunt and, when he came back, Tyrion wasn't there anymore. As much as he looked, Jaime couldn't locate him. On top of that, Cersei had been furious with him, telling Jaime he had been an idiot for transforming Tyrion. She had screamed that their younger brother would be a jest to every coven and other things he couldn't remember anymore. A week later Tyrion had come back to him, Jaime had been relieved and happy but Tyrion didn't seem to have any memories of what had happened during most of the days they were apart. 

 

Soon he found himself right where he should be, a place near a clump of weirwoods that was to serve as their meeting point. She was standing in all her glory and ferociousness, pale locks loose dancing wildly in the wind. She wore a wicked smile he knew very well, dancing in those eyes that were a shade violet he had never seen in any other, and that ridiculously ancient pendant she was never without. For the occasion she donned a white cape and leather hunting clothes underneath. In another time he might have even considered her a beauty, yet he knew very well she was nothing but terrible, the dreadful Dragon Lady. 

 

“Time has graced you with strength, my child,” she said, but he was not fooled by her apparent warm welcome. He couldn't forget how she had stared at him, how clearly she had threatened Brienne's life.

 

“Why are you here?” He needed to deal with her fast, he had the impression that Brienne was hiding something.

 

“Has my absence caused no agony? Shouldn't a child ache for his mother's embrace? Any child should miss his forbearer. Such a pity,” she groused, that wicked smile still on her lips.

 

“Just tell me, why are you here?” He remained insistent, weary of her pretensions.

 

“Your anguish for this companion of yours is quite noteworthy,” she started walking, circling him. 

 

 _So she wants to play with her prey,_ he thought. _I probably deserve it._ He turned to keep facing her as she continued her circuitous wandering.

 

“Rest unconcerned, my child, my interests lie elsewhere. Whichever woes you might have of my regard are unfounded, for it was just chaff, a tease. My reasons remain forever unchanged, as always. I came on one specific errand and that is a child of mine,” she sung in that strange voice of hers, laughing at his concern. As if killing Brienne was nothing but a mere jape for her.

 

“What do you mean by that? You were about to attack her, I know you were,” he kept on turning, trying to maintain eye contact, green against violet. It would have been foolish to let his guard down or to show his back to her.

 

“My taunt had one intention and one alone. An uncertainty that needed to be clarified... It amazes me greatly the amount of time needed for this particular innovation. Perhaps I failed as a mother, for I never indicated that changing consorts is healthy when the moment presents itself. For you, my child, it was high time. Such astonishingly divergent behavior from your mother... I have changed them so many times I fail to recall some of their names anymore,” she said, waving her hands and still laughing.

 

“I haven't…we are not that. Don't talk about Lady Brienne in such terms, she's a highborn lady and not a mere consort, treat her with respect,” he grumbled angrily.

 

“Yet you want her. You suffer greatly for her safety. You may even love her... desperately,” her tone was mocking but still threatening. He narrowed his eyes, weary of her and her bold assertions.

 

“Don't presume you know me,” he said shaking his head.

 

“I know the eyes of one that is taken completely by another. You are, my golden child, you might deny it but she owns you utterly. The choice becomes you. It is a good choice, this new lady and your sister have absolutely disparate characters.” He wasn't convinced by her apparent approval of Brienne. Instead he stared into her ancient yet delicate features, bewildered.

 

“You knew?” He was surprised

 

“Of course, it was obvious. You approached your sister all those times, under the belief of my absence, you believed wrong. It is suitable that now you have acquired enough skills to feel your surroundings better. It will be necessary, for a war is coming,” her lilting tone grew serious and low.

 

“You don't know Lady Brienne, you don't know Cersei or me,” insisted Jaime. 

 

“I do, much more than you,” she smirked.

 

“How? You were with us for such a short time…” He begged, losing his footing at her arrogance and seemingly ancient understanding.

 

“I was never far away, despite how remorseful you are at how poor or absent my attentions were. All my children concern me, even those who are not as close to me. I might have erred with my golden lions, though I fail to regret it. You are a kind child, and so handsome,” she took a step towards him, her intentions clear. Repulsed, Jaime took a step back.

 

“What do you mean you ‘erred’?” He came to ascertain that Brienne wasn't in danger from Jaime’s maker, but the Dragon Lady’s words piqued his curiosity. She was a mystery and he had never known what made her decide to change them that day he thought he was going to die.

 

“I mistook you. At the time I thought you were...you weren't. Had I known the truth, that sword would have truly been your end. Fate wanted it otherwise. Hence you stand here before me,” and she shrugged, smiling once more.

 

Jaime was growing impatient, he wanted to go to Brienne, but he had to be sure this particular lady was not going to be a menace even if she wasn’t a threat.

 

“You are cryptic as always. Answer me this, and answer clearly for once: are you going to hurt Lady Brienne?”

 

“Finally, you concede how strongly attached you are to her? Good. You should. Otherwise your hideous lass might be wooed by another, for she won't be that hideous for long...” She laughed again musically. “Do not trouble yourself over me. I won't hurt her as long as she doesn't hurt any of my children...as you did.”

 

Jaime felt a surge of dread filling him, suddenly reduced to a mass of fear. Again he felt as before, like those first days after he woke up. He felt the pain and hunger and the strange eyes of that terrifying lady boring into him. Constantly, persistently, every day, and almost every minute her violet eyes watched him. Cersei had clung to him desperately, sometimes she cried to herself before each morning came, some mornings they both cried before entering that strange sleep-like state. Every day had been a challenge, trying to find out how to please her lest she would burn them alive or tear their heads from their shoulders and take their hearts from their chest. 

 

Vividly he remembered the day she brought another vampire with her. He was almost a giant. Never had they seen such a big creature before him. Many times the giant had come and the two would lock themselves in her room, to fuck and suck loudly. One of those times she had unexpectedly opened the door with a loud bang, naked except for that pendant. An outsider may have considered the scene to be from a whorehouse, except that her mouth and chest were covered with dried blood. Her rage was so visible that Cersei had clung to him and they recoiled to a distant corner, all pride forgotten, wishing more than anything to melt into the wall. He had covered his sister protectively, yet the Dragon Lady didn't even spare a look for them. She walked towards an iron chest and opened it gently. Observing whatever was inside seemed to calm her rage, which brought some hope to the two cowering in the corner. Fate would not allow her to keep her calm though, since her brute of a lover decided to follow her out. He had only approached his face to the door when the air in the room became cold once more. As the fool observed her he commenced stupidly mocking her _sentimentalism,_ as he called it, _regarding her human past_. It would have taken her ten long steps to reach him but she needed only to twitch her arm, as if to shake off a fly, and his second laugh became frozen on a head that was no longer attached to its body. With a thud the head fell to the floor and her bizarre appendage moved to his chest to extirpate the heart contained inside. Extended and protracted, her arm looked distinctly like the long, thin limb of a dragon. Swiftly and with barely any sound, her arm recovered its normal shape. The rest of the body of her lover collapsed near the head and a pool of blood grew slowly, staining the marble floor. He had seen her transform before, but never like that, and Cersei had never seen her transformation at all before that day. She had even fought the idea of it. 

 

Cersei shivered underneath his embrace, surely due to fear, and he held her closer and tried to offer consolation. As if she had been eating nothing else but an apple, the Dragon Lady proceeded to close her iron chest and walk to her room whilst chewing the heart that not long ago had been in her lover's chest. Like a sack of potatoes she kicked the body towards them. Before closing the door she gave them a look and pointed to the dead body with a clear connotation. They were scared and didn't want to cause offense so, revolted as they were, they accepted her offer anyway. Not every night were they witness to similar massacres, but with time the fear receded or they had become numb to it. Nevertheless their short connivance with her was such a harrowing experience that, despite how lost they were once she left, both twins were immensely relieved at the same time. 

 

Despite the dread he felt crawling inside him, Jaime fought the feeling. This was not time for memories, he had to be ready to fight her. “I do not understand. Who are you talking about?” He said as he concentrated in his hands.

 

“Oh no, my child, that is absolutely futile. It shouldn't have escaped your attention that I am by far faster than you,” her cold presence seemed to take over the forest and to his confusion his transformation was abruptly halted. It was unbelievable. He hadn't ordered the halt in his progression. 

 

“However futile it may be, I will protect Lady Brienne,” he replied through gritted teeth, even as his doubts only increased.

 

“Yet she concerns me not... my only interest at this precise moment is to warn you. The message has to be clear in your pretty, golden head to never incur a similar offense again. You are to leave my children be. Otherwise you will meet your true end, and your lady will follow,” she said as she halted her stroll.

 

“As always, I have no idea of what you are talking about. I have killed too many men,” he answered truthfully. Try as he might, he was unable to focus on his limbs. It seemed someone had put a latch on his intentions. Dismally he found he couldn't transform.

 

“The one I am talking about was not a commoner, I know about your particular diet. It is no mystery to me why you targeted him. On your behalf there's but one detail: he could have hurt another child. The same child I am particularly interested in taking care of. _That_ is the reason your head is still attached to your body and your heart still resides in your chest. Unknowingly, you have saved one of my kin. Nevertheless, you murdered one of mine and that is a mistake you should never repeat again. Such accomplishment was only possible during my long sleep. Yet now I am here, awake as you can clearly see, to let you know what the consequences will be if you proceed in a similar manner. It is on your best interest to never interfere with my children again, let them be.” She finished with a feigned sweetness in her voice, as if she was really a mother talking to her frolicsome child. It was irritating.

 

Suddenly, knowledge dawned on Jaime and made him even more furious. “He was hurting her, you can't possibly condone that?”

 

“No, of course not, yet it was no business of mine. It is _their_ business, the business of the living. A valuable lesson my child, is to learn to calm your passionate self. The day will come when you will learn to stop interfering,” she said, trying to teach him a lesson.

 

“I couldn't, she was innocent. It was the same place...” He was terribly disturbed by her demand, and by her threat. From all the murders he had committed since he had turned into the cold creature that he was, that was the one he would never regret. 

 

“The very same place Aerys II hurt someone else you loved? My child, those events took place decades before. This other business I am mentioning was completely foreign to you. Learn that, learn to distinguish between times lest go mad,” she said, pointing a long finger at him, still with that patronizing tone.

 

“I can't possibly be so callous,” he insisted, shaking his head.

 

“You will learn,” she replied, no, she _threatened._

 

“And why aren't you upset about that, about me killing Aerys and failing the first Rhaegar, the one who was a decent man?” Despite his confession, Jaime had always been a bit uncomfortable at not remembering anything about killing Aerys II.

 

“You were a mere human, and you had your choices to make. That was nothing of my concern. Now you aren't, you are my child. Every child needs the advice of his loving mother, from time to time,” she jested, though there was no sweetness about her, no motherly love. She was only a continuing sensation of imminent destruction.

 

“Who are you really? You never told us your name,” he dared to ask. He had always suspected what she was, never forgetting the sigil of that house. It was only now that he had the chance to receive absolute confirmation of his suspicions.

 

“Yet you know now, at least in part,” she grinned maliciously, exposing her pointed and curved teeth. 

 

“I don't know who you are, I don't know if I can trust your words,” he said, frowning.

 

“There is no way for you to know, my child. You will have to believe me, for my words are my only gift to you. You have to trust your mother,” she said gently.

 

“If you are a Targaryen, then why do you call me your child?” 

 

“Because I am the reason you are one of our kind,” she shrugged, then continued, “There was a time I thought you really were, and then I learned you weren't. You are a Lannister after all, but it was too late, you were already no earthly child by the time the knowledge came to me.”

 

“Why would you think I was one of yours?” Jaime continued his questioning, confused.

 

“King Aerys II was very fond of your mother...” Her smile widened.

 

“Did he think that she... that Cersei was?” He felt as if his insides were being twisted by a blade.

 

“Yes, he did.” Her voice and face grew completely serious. 

 

Jaime felt repulsed. If he could, he would have emptied the contents of his stomach right there. Cersei had actually been excited about her wedding day. She had looked so beautiful in her silver and golden gown that he had asked her to elope with him. Cersei had only laughed and told him not to worry, that now that he was a member of the Kingsguard and they would always be together. Yet her tone was too dismissive for Jaime's liking, her joy was too real. It was as if she was honestly looking forward to her life as the Prince's wife. 

 

He could still see her, sitting in a chair in front of her boudoir, looking at her reflection in the mirror and arranging her jewelry. She shone in her golden beauty and joy, her hair cascading to her lower back in luscious waves that reflected almost as brightly as the pendants and tiara she wore that day. Yet it was her smile that had made Jaime's heart constrict painfully in his chest, for it was one filled with honest happiness. She was truly leaving him for the Prince, and she cherished her future. He had known that day that Cersei was truly fond of her betrothed. Jaime had been very jealous and angry about it, but they had been so innocent and so mistaken. What was expecting her at the end of her walk towards the altar was so far afield from the promises of love and happiness that she might as well have received a death sentence. Though both were shocked when her husband turned out to be King Aerys II, not prince Rhaegar, they couldn't fathom what it truly meant. Rhaegar married Elia Martell instead, that same day. King Aerys II had become a widower only two months before, and he already had descendants, but for some reason he decided to wed Cersei. They weren’t expecting that, no one was. Cersei had swallowed her tears and accepted her new role valiantly, though the marriage brought her only misery and despair. They found consolation in each other's arms. She had three children, but they were all Jaime's, and Cersei had found some happiness in that. The consolation didn't last long though... 

 

To think that he, that mad king, would have bedded the one he thought was his own daughter... how he treated her... how he made her cry and scream. More than once Jaime felt the impulse to stop him, to break the doors of their chamber and stop him from brutalizing her. Ser Barristan Selmy always held him off, shaking his head, reminding him he was a member of the Kingsguard. He was forced by his vows to respect the King's order. But shouldn't they defend the queen as well? He even fought them once. He couldn't bear the screams of her sister anymore. It was a desperate situation. Rhaegar had intervened that time, asked his father to be kinder to his wife. The King almost sentenced his own son to death that time, but from that moment onwards they didn't hear any more screams. Cersei had said to him that the king was being kinder to her, in the few stolen moments Jaime and she had together. It had been only later, once they were no longer human, that she told him that the king had never been kind. The only difference had been that from that day he had gaged her. She had tried to protect Jaime by holding back the truth knowing the king would have killed him had he tried to stop the brutality. Had Jaime been given the opportunity, he would have murdered that wretched king once more, but making sure this time to prolong the pain. 

 

The fact that, years later, another Targaryen had made another innocent scream in pain in that same wretched room had been enough to reawaken those emotions in all their potency. Under no circumstance would he ever feel bad for ending the life of that man. 

 

“And you protect those bastards?” He was furious, it didn't matter how dangerous she was anymore. He was not going to allow her to manipulate him again. 

 

“Oh dear, if only you knew... my child, there is so much you ignore about those who you care about, and about those you despise. That which you ignore about your father, about your little brother, and about Cersei is a vast and colossal subject. If you found in yourself the courage to confront these realities, maybe then you would comprehend that one can't only protect the life of the ones who seem to be good. A dark and a bright side can be seen in us all. The blindness you live in is dangerous, and you cast those you love in a light much too favorable and much too unreal. To live under those expectations is impossible. Those you wish to protect, what do you know about them? You know nothing even about this Brienne, are you aware of her many failed betrothals?”

 

He knew this was completely unrelated to what he was talking about. Even then, he was surprised. Then a memory floated back to him... “ _Maybe you do not know me that well”_ That was what she had said that night he came back to her, after he learned the hard truth about Cersei. That was the night he started observing her in her sleep. “ _It might be true, maybe I do not know anyone that well,_ ” he had replied. Somehow that memory became more significant. There could be truth hidden among the poison the Dragon Lady was throwing at him. 

 

“Of course you ignored this. She is human, my golden child, a history precedes her and a long trail of flaws as well. Cersei also had flaws. If you have interest whatsoever on keeping this association for long you might want to learn to see her flaws and accept them,” she said stoically. 

 

“What do you know about long relationships?” He snapped, still angry at her.

 

“Oh, I had some. Don't delude yourself into believing I didn't. It is only that it pleases me to change, but you are not me. You are quite... monogamous. I am more adventurous.” She smirked, pleased with herself, and ran her fingers through her log hair. 

 

He was suddenly tired of the conversation. “If you are not going to hurt her, then I think there is nothing else to discuss.”

 

“Of course, you want to go back to your lovely lady. I hope though, for her sake and yours, that you follow my advice.” He furrowed his brow at the return to her patronizing tone and growled.

 

“If one of your _children_ ever hurts Brienne, or someone she loves, I will tear their heads from their bodies. Have no doubt about it,” he spit at her.

 

“Oh, that would be a pity, since I believe that I quite like her. It would be so sad to obliterate such a wonderful pair from existence unnecessarily. And her heart would be so much happier to stay inside her rather than in my hands,” she said, extending her palm to him and opening and closing her fingers, as if she was caressing an invisible object with care. It made him once again recall that night, her particular inclinations towards hearts, and he shivered.

 

“You can't ask me to forgive those who hurt my lady,” he threatened. Even if she could control him, if she was the one causing him to be unable to change his form, he wasn't going to allow anyone to threaten Brienne. Not even this monster.

 

“There is actually no need to worry. I have told you, the ones that are alive now do not suit your particular diet as far as I can see. Yet humans change, you know that,” raised her hands in a placating gesture.

 

“Humans? You mean your human children? But there are no Targaryens left,” he wracked his mind for some indication of another Targaryen monarch and came up with nothing.

 

“You know there are, here in Winterfell there is one,” she spoke as though he should have already known this. Jaime thought of the bastard, the one called Snow. Under no circumstances did he want to know how this creature succeeded in following her descendants, how did she know this well kept secret or how would she change his title, so Jaime remained silent. “And I have another, no effort recognizing her would be needed. Her appearance quite resemblances mine. One would say _I_ gave birth to her, she is true child of mine,” The Dragon Lady said this with an air of gleeful triumph. 

 

“Do not look so contrite now, child, as long as your golden pawns are kept afar from my children, then I can gift you with my absence once more,” she told him at last, turning in a swirl of twigs and red leaves and then vanished, melting into the snow as if she had never been there at all.

 

A heavy weight had left his chest. There was nothing left of her, except her scent lingering in his nose. He needed to search for Brienne but his progress was abruptly halted on his way back to Winterfell when he felt the presence of not one, but three, of his kind quickly advancing towards him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks a lot for all comments and kudos, I love people's theories and ideas. Please keep sharing them with me. This quickly update is here in part to make up because next week I wont be here, so sorry! But at least you got 2 chapters one after the other, right?  
> Well, let me know what you think.


	17. The beauty and the beasts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Showdown two, introducing a new foe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, all thanks and praise to H3L for being a great and enthusiastic beta. Sorry for the delay, travels happen. Hope this chapter is interesting

The sun was finally setting, slowly, when the curtains of a room in Winterfell were suddenly opened, as if in a fit of rage. A pair of blue eyes spied gingerly for some seconds behind the curtains, before exposing the rest of the owner's face and body. A tall blue-eyed girl with a scarred face breathed in and observed how the setting sun's light played with the colors of the snow, the houses and a scant few leaves. Brienne wished she had enjoyed the sun more the last time she had seen it. It was still visible on the horizon, and she discovered that it did not hurt her eyes to observe it. There was no pain in her body either. Her hands looked normal, no blister forming on them. It gave her a slight relief. Her promise had been not to let herself burn, so despite enjoying the sun she wasn't really breaking her oath. She stood observing the sun only, bathing in its dying light. Whatever seconds she had left, when the sun and her weren't foes, she would take. Feeling somewhat more hopeful, she left the window to dress. 

 

Observing herself meticulously in the mirror, she noticed that her skin and eyes were much the same, she was still a human. The only aberrant sight was her cheek. It had healed in such haste, and was now in an even better state than the previous day. Grabbing a piece of cloth in frustration, she covered her offending cheek. It was not ideal, she shouldn't have to lie, but her almost healed cheek would draw too much unwanted attention. When she observed her tainted bed she felt a pang of remorse. She had given herself to a man who was not her husband. Feeling ashamed and at the same time aroused, she remembered how they had gasped, moaned and shuddered together. They had clung to each other desperately in the dark. She had screamed his name and then... she had done _that_. It was not completely clear to her if what had moved her to bed Jaime had been her own desires alone, or the will of that other creature that seemed to be resting now; curled, somewhere inside her. She even doubted that sucking Jaime’s blood had been an act completely done by the sleeping beast, a part of Brienne had also moved her.

 

She shook her head. It was not the time to think about it. It was all too confusing and she was too torn between lust and guilt. The truth would quite possibly remain a mystery forever. She no longer knew where she ended and this foreign creature began. It might as well be an integral part of her now. To avoid thinking any further on that dilemma, she needed to do something, so she changed her bed sheets herself. It was best if the maids didn't see how the ones she had used the previous night looked. There was blood on them, partly hers and partly Jaime's. Then she took the dirty ones outside and washed them herself as well. She was as discreet as possible. With all the maids roaming around it was difficult, but she achieved it. Brienne was happy to be a fast learner, she had spied the maids when she was younger and knew how to deal with these domestic issues. It had always been evident to her that it was best not to depend so much on others. The sheets were clean and ready to be ironed when she heard someone approaching. Quickly she hid in the cellar. The maid that had come in commented how odd it was, that she had been so sure she had finished with the ironing but at the same time she started ironing the mysterious sheets. When she left Brienne cautiously spied from her hiding place, to make sure she was alone, before leaving the small space and sneaking back to her room. 

 

In her confusion she didn't know what else she should do, so she remained in her room observing the sight of the field as the light faded away and as candles and lamps were lit. It gave her a strange sort of peace, to observe as other's lives as they continued in spite of the turmoil in her own. At some point a maid knocked on her door and told her that supper was ready. Lord and Lady Stark were busy with some private meetings with the Queen, so she ate alone. It had been pleasant to find out she could also still eat. The food tasted like chalk but she devoured it. At least she was not turning into a monster yet. There was a small ray of hope that she might not be turning into a monster at all. However, the fact that she could still see the sun, and even eat, were the only pleasant thing the day brought for her. 

 

Jaime joined her at the table when she was reading her letter. Surprisingly, he had also received one, it had a seal of a three-headed dragon. A peculiar event in itself, made stranger by the odd seal. It belonged to an ancient house that didn't exist anymore to her recollection. The last war, a year after she was born, had eliminated the last of the Targaryens. There was no doubt that Jaime was hiding something from her but she felt it was best to let him go. He kissed her hand, and then her forehead, and for a moment she thought he was about to kiss her mouth as well. She removed her head violently from his grasp and busied her lips with the cup, not removing them from the lip of her glass until he was gone. Jaime seemed to understand her gesture, yet he stared at her yearningly and she felt an ache in her heart that felt almost physical in its intensity. It made her want to kiss him, but she knew better than to show such feeling openly. He stared at her a while longer, then simply departed without complaint. Little Arya had come when Jaime was still staring strangely at her, and talked about her new sword. It was a present from her brother, or better said, half-brother, the same sullen boy Brienne had once seen protecting Lady Sansa at a tournament. Brienne gave her a few remarks about it and said that she would be delighted to train with the girl later, then excused herself and went to her room to analyze her package alone. 

 

It was for the best if neither Jaime nor Arya were around when she went to confirm her doubts, she had more pressing matters to attend to. After dressing more properly for the cold, she took the letter and the contents of the package with her, as well as Oathkeeper, before directing her steps to the stable. Except for the misleading seal, they hadn't tried to hide their threats this time. They had Lady Sansa. They sent a strand of her red hair and a piece of her dress in that little package, the items undoubtedly belonged to her. The hair was of that distinctly auburn color and the fabric was of one of the dresses the beautiful lady seemed to favor the most. A night ago Arya had commented once more, that it was odd how they hadn’t any letters from her sister yet. Lady Catelyn would jump to control the package of letters every day in search of a letter from her daughter, always in vain. No letters from Lady Sansa arrived and they received no reply to the many they had sent to the Vale. Perhaps Cersei _had_ really kidnapped the girl before she’d even reached the Vale. 

 

It was her fault, Brienne scolded herself. She shouldn't have involved the Starks. It had been stupid beyond belief. She had to save Lady Sansa, it was her obligation. That poor and innocent Lady Sansa, that enjoyed lemon cakes so much, should be safe in the Vale with her Aunt. She shouldn't ever be exposed to such horrors. Anguished, she remembered her encounter with the monstrous lioness. Cersei could be capable of such cruelty it made Brienne shudder to think of her torturing the sweet Lady Sansa in body _or_ mind. 

 

They summoned Brienne to some ruins that were some hours away from Winterfell. She should have left a note for Jaime, telling him he shouldn't feel guilty. A note telling him that she... what exactly? She wasn’t sure what she needed him to know, but it mattered not, there was no time. She rode her horse, the same one that Jaime had given her when he saved her from Lord Tarly. Its name was Honor. It was a strange name for a horse, but she allowed it. Perhaps she minded little because it was Jaime who had named it thus. 

 

The wind was blowing fiercely and bits of snow hit her face, arms, and legs with almost deliberate force. But she had no time to think about how much it hurt her, not even about how much branches and thorns cut through her skin. All she could think about was the gentle, softly spoken Lady Sansa. Her auburn hair, her clear eyes, beauty and kindness personified. Others, less graceful ladies, had mocked Brienne all her life. Not the Lady Sansa. Not even the Lady Lyanna. Both Ladies had treated her like if she was... normal. Lord Renly had been one of the few people who had ever treated her with kindness, and then the Starks had taken her in without though. In exchange she had put their child in danger. An innocent girl that should have never been involved in that vortex of chaos that Brienne's life had become. Brienne promised herself that if she survived she would always protect her father, Lord Renly, Lady Lyanna and the Lady Sansa, even if she had to do it by distancing herself from them, even if she had to leave them forever.

 

When she finally reached the ruins she dismounted Honor and, in her hurry, forgot to tie him up to a tree. She just rushed to the old tower and pushed its heavy door open. It was an old wooden door, with rust eating away at the metal. The noise it made as she pushed it open could probably be heard miles away, but that was irrelevant. She knew this creature could hear her regardless of how quiet she entered that place. Part of the ceiling was broken open, and the wind howled fiercely through that opening. The air was colder inside there than what it had been outside, yet it was filled with that perverse cold as well. There was no doubt, _she_ was here. In a strange way Brienne felt she could almost smell her. She followed the scent until it took her to its origin and she saw her foe. Cersei Lannister was in the shadows, a fearless lioness, frozen in the peak of her beauty. Brienne let her package fall to the ground, unsheathed Oathkeeper, and prepared herself for an attack. Cersei seemed amused by being discovered and gave a step forward. She held another package in her hands.

 

“I see that you came alone,” she purred. The lioness was different somehow. No longer did she look tired or wasted. Every inch of her was perfection. Her hair shone healthily, no visible lines marred her face, and her porcelain skin seemed to be that of a younger woman. However much she searched, there was not a single trace of the wound that should spoil her foe's face. No, that pale and perfectly carved face was an altar and not a battlefield. Now she seemed to be the same indeterminate age as Jaime. It struck her as odd, ominous.

 

“It was what was asked of me, wasn't it? Where is Lady Sansa?” Brienne inquired brusquely, she had no time for silliness. She knew very well that this particular creature had a way with words that turned poisonous and dangerous in her prey's minds. The longer they spoke the more chances the blond beauty would have to play with Brienne’s mind, and this time she was sure she had to avoid it.

 

“Oh, she is at the Vale, of course,” said the lioness, as if she had been asked about the weather.

 

“But the package…the dress, the hair…” Brienne wondered aloud, blinking in confusion. 

 

“Oh, my dear, silly, innocent girl. Very much unlike you, some of the maids at these solemn houses are less than innocent, one of them in particular. You see? This one likes to scream the name of one of my lovers, my _eyes_ , when his cock is buried deep inside her. She likes it so much she would do anything to secure him for herself. She met him, curiously, at the same time she _wasn't_ here. It was probably while you met my sweet brother. And since then she has become so attached to him, she really shows him her devotion. You should read their passionate letters, they are quite saucy. She is surprisingly verbose. She told us so many nice stories about you, and my dear brother, and Lady Sansa. Once he asked for a bit of Lady Sansa's hair. Then he asked her for one of her dresses. Even when it was dangerous the girl complied.” Cersei was smiling triumphantly. 

 

“But the letters?” It made no sense to Brienne. Lady Sansa was a kind girl, she knew her parents would worry if she didn't write about her trip and about the moment she reached the Vale. If she was indeed safe in the Vale, why hadn't she replied to her mother's several letters?

 

“Of course the same maid hid all of Sansa's letters, all the ones that reached Winterfell. You weren't expecting that we would forget that part of the plan, surely? It would have been odd if she would have written while imprisoned, wouldn't you say so? And we intercepted all the letters directed to the girl as well,” she said, her cool eyes analyzing Brienne to the last detail and making her feel naked and powerless.

 

Then she daintily opened the package and took its contents out. The beautiful dress unfolded delicately and cascaded to the floor, Lady Sansa's dress with a tear near the bodice. Holding it from the shoulders, the lioness extended her arms towards Brienne as if she wanted to show it off to her. “Oh, look, here she is, the Lady Sansa. _So nice to see you Lady Brienne, it is so chivalrous of you to come and save me from the_ _ **great danger**_ _I am in,_ ” said Cersei mockingly, throwing the dress to Brienne's feet. The lioness laughed that feminine laugh of hers and Brienne felt it reverberate in her bones. 

 

She felt like a witless fool, but at the same time she was extremely relieved. At least Lady Sansa was safe. Whatever was about to happen to her, the innocent lady was safe. Lady Lyanna and Jaime were also safe in Winterfell. Brienne accepted her destiny. If this was her end, at least she was fighting it on her own. Nobody else was at risk. 

 

 _I kept my promise, Jaime_ , she thought, smiling sadly and holding Oathkeeper tighter. _I won't burn, I won’t kill myself. I might have been right. I might meet my end with your sister. But, however she might try, I won’t be an easy prey._

 

“Why are you suddenly so relaxed? I wouldn't have thought you were such a martyr,” Cersei said with a wicked smile illuminating her face. 

 

Brienne felt it, the air changed, and that was the second the lioness launched her attack. She was ready and reacted just in time, drawing an arc that cut the air and Cersei's sleeve. The lioness continued attacking Brienne, but she seemed to be more careful than she had been in their last encounter. She tried to surprise Brienne and was avoid Oahkeeper as much as possible. However hard Brienne tried, her sword only kissed the hair and clothes of the fierce lioness. Despite her frustration at being unable to reach the creature’s skin, she was glad to hear her foe’s frustrated roars. She was probably a vane lady, detesting having one of her fine dresses torn to pieces. If Brienne could, she would turn it into useless rags. 

 

Quite unexpectedly she felt other presence. There was another one of them nearby, and it was sneaking from behind. As she defended herself from it, Cersei managed to grab one of her hands. Brienne kicked the lioness in the face, while aiming at her other foe with a frontal offensive of her magic sword, and Cersei released her hand. The nameless creature slinked away, but a lock of her black hair lay on the floor. Brienne circled Cersei, trying to stay alert, waiting for the next attack from the other as well. It was not a fair fight, yet she wasn't really surprised to find that this particular foe would behave so dishonorably. 

 

To her joy she perceived, just in time, a flicker of surprise crossing the lioness face. It was obvious that she wasn't expecting Brienne to be able to fight both of them at the same time.

 

The next time the assault came from beneath, the thing tried to slide its way between her feet. Brienne caught it in time with Oathkeeper, this time cutting through fabric and exposing skin. The creature howled in agony. Trying to take advantage of Brienne’s distraction, the lioness attacked her back, not realizing that Brienne was turning in an arc that almost cut her head off. The lioness recoiled in time, roaring in rage. Strands of blond hair danced in front of Brienne as they fell to the floor. It was a glorious sight. 

 

They circled and swirled around her with increasing haste, turning into a whirlwind of invisible and demonic claws. Oathkeeper parried the claws, and she distinguished one pair better than the other, it was becoming somehow easier and more predictable. Slower perhaps. Though Brienne was again in part blind to them, she still managed to cut them as they attacked. One demonic voice screamed far more times than the other, sadly it wasn't Cersei. Though, even then the sight of her blade turning scarlet with each thrust gave Brienne hope. Maybe she could defeat them. 

 

The onslaught seemed to continue for hours. She had always proceeded in letting her opponents attack until they grew tired, she had more stamina than many others. Yet in this case, she felt she couldn't really overpower these creatures using that method. She needed to cut their heads off, or aim at their hearts. How the knowledge came to her, she could explain. She only knew that it could save her, might be her only chance against these monsters.

 

“Stay quiet, little beast!” The lioness roared in her imposing voice. An invisible chain seemed to slide from the floor to cover Brienne’s entire body, constricting her and making it hard for her to breathe. 

 

Trying to force herself to think rationally, she realized that what trapped her was nothing but the lioness's words again. They were stronger now but still only words. She was releasing herself from Cersei’s power when they both came to her in. She dodged them in the nick of time, throwing herself to the side. Two female heads turned to see their elusive prey, one blond the other black-haired, both looked to be beautiful highborn ladies. They moved gracefully and seductively as cats. Yet their long nails seemed more like claws and their eyes shone with clear, menacing intentions, showing their true nature. On all fours they crawled towards her at a harrowing pace. Instead of recoiling, Brienne confronted them, aiming directly at their heads. It was an unexpected attack and they both hissed as they evaded it and shied away. 

 

Still, there was no time to rest or celebrate her near escape. As she was standing she directed her sword to the left almost without thinking. It pointed towards the lioness heart, who would have fallen right into Oathkeeper had she followed through with her attack, trying fruitlessly to surprise Brienne. Once again, the lioness managed to escape. Brienne felt a gush of air on her right so she closed her fist and threw it with force towards the face of her other opponent, that either was not expecting it or was not fast enough to avoid the collision, who received the blow with full force. The creature crashed into a wall with a loud crack and an agonizing moan, but before Brienne could reach her she had recovered and was retreating. 

 

Brienne blinked in confusion, for a second she would have sworn that she had seen someone grabbing the other creature from her grasp.

 

Treacherous as always, the golden lioness tried an assault on her back but Brienne swirled and confronted her delicate neck with Oathkeeper's blade, causing the smallest of punctures before Cersei could avoid the blade tip. Discontented and angered, the lioness roared as she gained distance from Brienne. She pursued Cersei until she felt it again, that other trying to slide in between her legs and make her fall. She kicked the black-haired one’s pretty face instead. The creature screamed in misery when Oathkeeper opened a wound on her chest, blood poured from it and the creature tried to cover it, as if that would suffice to heal her. It was a pathetic sight, to see that woman in such pitiful distress. It clouded Brienne's judgment for some seconds but when she tried to aim at the creature's heart it somehow slithered away despite its gaping wounds. Once more, but just for a split second, Brienne had the impression that Cersei’s accomplice had been taken away by force. Frustrated, Brienne grunted. They kept escaping her thrusts and attacks, and always just when she thought she had them. It seemed they were the ones trying to tire her. She wasn't tired yet. Brienne knew it would take longer than this to wear her down, and she felt for some reason, this time it was going to take even longer. If she had any chance at all, she was going to take at least one of them down with her.

 

 _It had better be Cersei,_ she said to herself. She had thought about Jaime before, about him having the chance to recover his life with her once Brienne was gone. But there was also the issue that Cersei was the one who had brought all of these problems on from the beginning. Jaime was not a lifeless puppet; he had obeyed his sister and thus contributed to putting Brienne in the predicament she was in, that was true. He had tormented her, yes, but then he had also saved her. And though he confused her, he gave her the sword, the one that gave her some certainty. It gave Brienne some chance of defeating these demonic foes. Besides, the one who had started throwing threats to people she cared about had always been Cersei. The one who wished her dead was Cersei. Cersei had to pay.

 

For a minute there was quietness. 

 

Brienne remembered Cersei's tactics and thought that she was trying to confuse her again. Yet the silence was broken when one of them attempted an attack from above, falling down on her, but the creature received Brienne's fist while her other hand was busy deflecting the other demon foe with Oathkeeper. The dead thing collapsed at her feet. It was the pitiful, the dark-haired one who was hurt before, but this time Brienne had no doubts. As soon as Cersei halted her assault in her, Brienne directed her attention to the creature at her feet. She would have pierced its heart had it not been dragged away again. The monster had not escaped fast enough though. Brienne had managed to wound its back badly. Oathkeeper had surely caused considerable damage if her instincts could be trusted. 

 

Suddenly the two vile beasts disappeared. She knew they were there, yet she couldn't perceive them. The lioness was really trying to confuse her, back to her old tricks, trying to make her believe she was losing her mind by abandoning the fight at an unexpected moment. Not only that, she felt that Cersei was doing something more, was in a way trying to invade her thoughts, to mix and confuse them somehow. Brienne knew better, she wasn't going to be fooled this time and she was tired of fighting and Cersei’s hackneyed mind games. Holding Oathkeeper tighter she advanced and concentrated on every sound, smell, and movement she could distinguish. Once more, minutes stirred in that bizarre silence and she could feel the doubts increasing inside her, crawling like poisonous vines on the corners of her mind. She fought them off, she wouldn't get lost in them. She needed her senses, she needed to stay alert. Cersei alone was enough of a problem, even more now that she was somehow stronger, but two foes required all her attention. Plus, the same trick couldn't be successfully used twice on her. Abruptly, an audible clank from below made her move her feet, thus escaping whatever was sneaking underneath her. By the sound it made it was clearly something heavy and long, though by the way it was hurled around it could have been the lightest of clothes. 

 

Cutting the air, she heard it making its way towards her. She ducked and evaded it once more. The ponderous foe kept scourging around her like a whip, trying to seize her feet and head, even her arms, yet she kept escaping its grasp the moment she felt it near. Another gush of wind seemed to come from her right so she moved to the left, only to abruptly meet with a cold metal near her chest. Too late she realized what it was, she gave a step back yet the other side of the chain was now on her back and as the air swirled around her, it took the massive chain and wrapped it around her. Once, twice, thrice, the chain kept moving around her body. In a curious way, it was hauntingly peculiar and hypnotizing to see that chain dancing around her, mid-air, nearing and trapping her. She reacted, extending her arms in an attempt to remove the chain. As if it possessed life and understanding, at exactly the same time she thought about removing it, it constricted and she almost lost her magic sword while she moaned in pain. Finally leaving the shadows, the two creatures neared her, their faces twisted in victorious smiles. Each one held one side of the long, massive chain. With it they slowly forced Brienne to a wall. 

 

“You wouldn't think I was going to be so foolish, did you? Last time that sword hit me it took longer to recover, and much more blood than normal to cure me. I won't let it happen again. You shouldn't have that disgusting sword, it is not yours,” purred Cersei in her ear and removed the sword from her hand by force.

 

 _No! Oathkeeper!_ She needed her magical sword. She couldn't defeat them without it.

 

Grunting and kicking, she felt the wall at her back as she was pressed by the two creatures. They threw all their weight against her. She could finally see both women clearly. Both wore refined dresses, now torn due to their fight, but of course they were not common women. They were strong, and together they were stronger than her. There was something different about Cersei this time, she seemed to be more relaxed in her attacks, more in control, and she also had a firmer hold than the last time they had met. The other woman though, she was slower than Cersei and bleeding from several wounds. Her face was swollen and with each step she seemed to flinch in pain. Her dress was also in a worse state that Cersei's. Despite Brienne's inability to move her arms, she still tried to reach and grab for Oathkeeper. She was sure her life depended on it.

 

“It's not yours, I told you. Has your mother taught you nothing? Things that don't belong to you aren't to be touched,” teased Cersei. Somehow, Brienne felt that the lioness knew about her mother, how she had died when she was just a girl, which was why she kept insisting on teasing about a relationship Brienne almost didn't have. She was always pushing Brienne, trying to hurt her by any possible means. 

 

“I don't care what Jaime thinks of you, you are _my_ prey. Do you understand? You are mine. It's fruitless to fight me. I am smarter than you,” Cersei continued, whispering into her ear as a lover would do.

 

Again, she felt the words snake through her body and command her to stay quiet, forcing her to stop fighting and for a brief period of time she obeyed. Yet her obedience weaned until it evaporated completely. She reacted, her mind stubbornly refusing to accept commands from this blond monster and thus broke the links of her invisible chains. Despite annoying Cersei, Brienne still couldn't escape her foe, the other woman, or the real chain they were using to trap her. 

 

“My dear lioness, she does smell delectable. It is a surprise no one has taken her yet,” said the unknown creature. Her skin was slightly less white but no less perfect than that of Jaime’s sister, and she was also more curvaceous than Cersei. She stared at Brienne with a lust Brienne had never seen in her life. Then this black-haired creature smelled her wounds, particularly the ones she had in one arm and licked the blood that was flooding there. The creature moaned in pleasure. It twisted Brienne's guts and she had to make an effort to avoid gaging. 

 

“Yes, I wanted to kill her, desperately so, but now, as you hold her... I really want much more. I want to see her face twisted in pain. I want to hear her cry, maybe she will call for my brother's help,” said Cersei laughing. Curiously, Brienne felt that it was mere bravado. For some unexpected reason, she felt that Jaime's twin used that laugh to cover the frustration that she could no longer control Brienne. 

 

The lioness smelled Brienne from neck to ear and then went towards her hair. Her pace was painfully slow. Brienne would rather have her end it all quickly. With one hand holding the chain in place, she used the other to sneak down and open her breeches with a swift movement, and introduced a cold, exploratory hand. She touched her tights and tried to get down her small clothes but Brienne kicked her, grunting once more.

 

“You are not holding her well enough, Taena, hold her legs,” commanded the lioness, annoyed. But the other woman was too small, she could not grab the chain properly to keep Brienne’s torso in place and also her legs. Cersei, being smaller than Brienne, couldn't reach her head. At some point in the middle of their struggle, a strand of Brienne's dull hair waved near the lioness's nose. The beautiful blond suddenly tensed.

 

“She is much too big for me,” screamed the black-haired woman, completely oblivious of the change of mood of her companion. “And she grunts like a pig,” she added in an attempt to move her to anger.

 

In a way she couldn't explain, it almost made Brienne laugh. 

 

“Oh, you do love me,” said she, sneering at the black-haired beauty, that looked appalled at her. Almost fuming in wrath, the lioness stared impatiently at the one called Taena, as if wishing to rebuke her for some unknown offense.

 

“Place her on the floor, there is something that requires investigation.” Cersei ordered Taena with a hint of anxiety in her voice. It was not an easy task with Brienne wrestling, but they finally lay her down. Though the lioness held her legs and went on trying to remove her clothes, Brienne didn't wanted to allow the creature near her skin, so she moved as much as she could, escaping her cold inquiring hands. Cersei still managed to touch her mound, immediately sniffing at her hand. She seemed startled and annoyed. The lioness, seated on Brienne's legs, stared at the creature named Taena as if she could find answers in that pretty face or in those large dark eyes. Then her green eyes eagerly searched for those answers on Brienne's face, placing her hands on and inserting her nails painfully into Brienne's abdomen. Her accomplice observed her apprehensively but said nothing.

 

“What have you done? Little bitch? Did you finally get to sleep with my brother?” The lioness roared in rage as she looked Brienne straight in her eyes.

 

Brienne only stared back at her defiantly. 

 

“He was only doing as I asked him to do, he was following MY orders. It was MY plan. Do you understand? I asked him, and he obeyed. He always obeys and you would be a fool to believe otherwise!” The lioness was wroth but Brienne could detect a hint of fear and jealousy in her voice. She couldn't help but find some sort of joy in Cersei’s jealousy. To win, at least in that battle, if she was to lose in this other, was sweet. Even in that critical position, trapped and defenseless, she felt an unusual flow of power filling her. Her lips involuntarily curved upwards.

 

“Erase that smirk of your stupid ugly cow face, little beast. He feels nothing for you! You succumbed to him because I commanded that. You are nothing but my puppet, don't you see? This is exactly what I wanted,” she screamed, inserting her nails deeper and more painfully into Brienne's stomach, making her bleed profusely.

 

At that precise moment Brienne felt as if a thunder had struck her. Screaming with an unnatural voice her body arched, pushing both creatures to the ground. The chain strangely seemed to be nothing but cloth when she was contorting in that bizarre and excruciating pain. Her nails scratched the stony floor with such strength it left permanent marks in the stone. As she twisted and arched violently the creatures recoiled from her in fear. Suddenly, the world swirled around her, a dense blackness engulfed her, and Brienne lost consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read this, thank you! Hope you leave a comment if you have any idea you would like to share. What was clear, what was confusing, what do you think is about to happen? Thanks to anyone who reads this, leaves kudos and comments.


	18. The lions and their quarrels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei and Jaime meet again, and more about Brienne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the horrible delay, but H3L is busy and I wanted to give her time for her own story (which is great, go read Valonqar, you'll love it). Sorry again, hope you enjoy this. Thanks a lot for reading and commenting n_n

_When the night's empress arrives_

_thrice shall venom dance in fluctuation_

_then thrice the moon adrift in despair follow_

 

Only a few candles illuminated the red and silver room. It wasn't necessary, the eyes of all of those present would have seen clearly regardless of how dimly lit the room was. A girl, so skinny and tall Cersei could have confused her with a twig, was singing beautifully, when the lioness entered. The artist had pale hair and big eyes. No, she didn't look like a twig, but rather like an owl on a twig. The owl girl had a lyre, and she was performing for a group of vampires in the lavishly decorated room. Cersei turned to observe the one who brought her there. He was beautiful. His skin was slightly darker than her own, a tone reminiscent of olive. It wasn't so clear now, as he was no longer human. He turned towards her with a smile so charming that, had she been younger, she knew she would have melted by the sight of it alone.

 

_The crimson poison always decides_

_between perception and aberration,_

_lest the substance turn hollow_

 

Abruptly the song ended. The girl, and several others present, had their eyes set on Cersei anxiously. Her companion extended his hands and laughed, presenting her to some of them with an easy confidence. The tenseness decreased slightly, but the girl sang for her dead audience no more. As she departed the room, Cersei observed how ungracefully she moved, like an overgrown spider escaping from the killing menace of a shoe. Others left with the girl as well, and she took umbrage on that behavior. Cersei irritably wondered why they would leave with that skinny bitch, instead of staying to meet her. She knew she was by far more beautiful than that owl-like girl. Her companion failed to tell her how secretive were the ones that belonged to that coven, and how much they detested uninvited guests in their meetings. To him, those details were silly, and he laughed at those sorts of worries. It would be the first and the last time she heard that haunting song, but Cersei never forgot it. At first she couldn't understand, that day she took the words as no more than a strange whim, a quirk of musical fancy of the coven who had gathered. It was only later that night, when she was alone with her companion, did she ask him and the song made sense. Soon after she experimented with her first, and now she considered herself an expert maker.

 

Except that now she had failed so utterly, so completely, at reading all the signals, that it shamed her.

 

The moment that tall, ugly bitch had started screaming and twisting in pain, Cersei knew, and got away as fast as she could. But Taena was too new, she had not seen the process before from the outside, she could not know what to look for. They needed to leave that place, it was no longer safe. Dismally she admitted that her plans had fallen to pieces, the capture wasn't at all what she had imagined it was going to be. They were supposed to enjoy tearing that beast of a woman to pieces, tormenting her for hours of course, but killing her in the end. She was nothing but a delicious fruit, one that needed to be plucked, needed to be tasted. The beast was _her_ delicious fruit, Cersei had chosen her. All these irregularities were Jaime's fault. He didn't know how to play these games. She should have sent someone else for the task. Had she done that, Taena and she wouldn't be in the difficult position they were now. 

 

“My lady...” Whispered Taena weakly, fearing what was happening before her eyes.

 

“Taena, come here, run! I did not know! Someone must have-” she screamed fruitlessly.

 

It was too late, that dumb bitch had seized Taena and was attacking her neck viciously. The noise was repulsing, as always. Cersei cursed loudly, she should have noticed. There had been enough evidence to have alerted her. Firstly, that ugly girl had been able to see her in the dark, maybe even smell her. Secondly, she had become faster. Even when Cersei had been well fed, stronger than the last time they met, Brienne had become curiously quick and had been almost impossible to defeat. Had Taena not been there, she was sure the ugly girl would have cut her head off. At the same time, Taena needed to be rescued more than once during their fight with the giantess, otherwise that huge beast would have killed her. How fruitless, now Brienne was going to kill her anyway. That beast of a woman had even managed to cause a small wound on Cersei’s beautiful neck. The wound would take longer to heal, as it had happened before.

 

_When the night's empress arrives_

_thrice shall venom dance in fluctuation_

_then thrice the moon adrift in despair follow_

 

The lyrics came to her mind, the poisonous words annoying to her now. The song of that coven, the one she had been hoping to belong to, the one she hoped to soon rule.The singer had been annoyed by Cersei’s presence because it wasn't a song she liked to share with strangers, so Cersei’s escort stated, but she hoped she could soon make the odd singer a stranger to the coven.

 

It was obvious that the big, stupid bitch was in the middle of the transformation. The most obvious thing should have been how healthy she was. After their last encounter she should still be in pain, and though her face was covered with a cloth, Cersei could see that the skin around it didn't look damaged in the least. It was too strange, she should have noticed. And as if that strange occurrence wasn't enough, that fool's confident remark and the smug look on her face clearly indicated that the dumb bitch was no longer the same as she once was. Before she had seemed to be one of those proper girls that would never find pleasure or pride in admitting they had a lover. Yet the moment Cersei smelled her hair she had known, her brother’s plaything was no longer innocent. The smell of Jaime in between her thighs was only a confirmation of what Cersei already suspected when that fool's hair accidentally caressed Cersei’s perfect nose. The glint in that bitch's eyes had showed her that the little fool was actually enjoying Cersei’s jealousy. But she wasn't jealous, she refused to be. But she couldn’t help but be surprised by Jaime's foolish whims. His stupid pet was disgustingly feeding on Taena. 

 

If Jaime’s new pet monster was as vicious as others she had known, it would be better for her own safety to leave the place and abandon Taena. Cersei recoiled and would have fled had a hand not held her in place at that precise moment.

 

“What did you do to her?” Jaime asked, in a voice that had long ago lost its ability to affect her. She only wanted to laugh at his ignorance. He looked dirty and bewildered, his clothes torn surely because he had been running like a madman in search of them.

 

“So you came for your little whore? And you don't even know?” She laughed. It was just too much for her. “Of course, little brother, you wouldn't possibly know. You were never clever enough to join the covens. You were so careless the only time you attempted to make another. I was hoping it would work to my advantage, but it didn't. Tyrion was far too clever and his instincts saved him.” She laughed again and pointed to the carnage they were witnessing “What you are observing, little brother, is nothing less than the process following its normal course. Had you been with me in the covens, you would have heard it. _When the night's empress arrives, thrice shall venom dance in fluctuation...”_ and she stopped herself before continuing _Why tell him that,_ she thought smiling maliciously. _Scare him with other things instead_ , she decided and continued, “today is obviously the third day. _Thrice shall venom dance in fluctuation,_ does explain it clearly, doesn't it? When a human gets a _bite_ , said human needs to absorb vampire blood in the second and third day, lest he become a mindless ghoul, incapable of thought or consciousness, a creature that is only able to search for blood and has no self-control. The song explains it very well. Our bite is already venomous, silly brother of mine, to the likes of her.” She said, almost unable to contain her smile. 

 

 _Pod? Unlikely, maybe that Bronn_ , _one of them must have bitten her, maybe even that stupid imp, maybe he thought that in that way she could defeat me. The imp would never know it now, how close she really was, she would never remember,_ thought Cersei, as she observed Brienne in disgust. 

 

“The problem is that, depending on the creature, hunger can be too strong at the last day. I even observed some cases where one of these sucked another dry,” she said with revulsion but at the same time amusement at Jaime's stupidity. 

 

Jaime's eyes widened. It made her chuckle.

 

“Scared little brother? Yes, you could have lost her. She could have become a witless beast. She is already almost one as it is. And your lack of knowledge would have been to blame. Your own memories are insufficient, one does not usually retain memories of one's transformation and you have only done it once. When you made Tyrion, or better be said, tried to turn him, only his self-preservation instincts told him what to do, not all are that lucky. He had some at hand. He used some of my fledglings, the little monstrous imp.” She said, remembering how the only time Jaime had tried to make a vampire he had done everything wrong, and even then he succeeded when he should have obviously failed. It almost seemed a joke from the gods, that his only experiments would kill two of her own lovers. Lovers she had made with careful planning, unlike Jaime. Wanting to torment him further, she went on, venomously. “Even I used former _fledgings_ to create new ones. I came across some that were particularly vicious in their first moments, this one seems like it will require at least two. My experience has taught me that mindless ghouls can be useful as well, yet they do create less bright individuals.” She ended her explanation with a condescending tone and a smirk. He was so unbelievably ignorant in these matters. She put special care in the way she pronounced _fledgings_ , so that he could understand that they were actually more than her followers, much more indeed. It was slightly upsetting for her to realize that, although the revelation was clear to him, Jaime seemed to care little to nothing about it.

 

 _Had that little idiot broken his promise?_ She thought, somehow mortified. _Of course, how could I have thought I could trust him?_ As she observed Jaime, she remembered his solicitous begging to abandon the idea of chasing Brienne. How he had protested that he only needed her, and cared nothing about the giantess. Little more than a month had passed and now it seemed that Jaime had been buried somewhere so deep in this beast of a woman that he dismissed Cersei easily. _It couldn't have been long ago. It must be recent... Very well, I will make sure he pays. A Lannister always pays his debts._

 

Both her brothers were a disappointment. It was a pity her father never recognized that she was the only one who knew how to play the game, so much better was she than her incompetent brothers. The imp had failed miserably at everything, even love. He hadn't even been able to hold his last lover for more than a night. He even thought he had planted spies on Cersei’s very selective group, her _eyes_ , nothing was further from the truth... Did he think that he could punish her by using Jaime? She wouldn't let him. And if Jaime would be coerced into leaving her, due to some silly rumors told by the imp, however true those rumors were, then both were no better than gossiping washerwomen and not worthy of her attention. She was much too important to waste her time on such fools. Nevertheless, she stood there, one hand trapped in his. Not a caress, not a tender embrace, but a violent grip. 

 

Though she would deny it for the rest of her existence, it pained her. 

 

The first time she smelled Brienne she had almost killed her instantly. An odd event, since that big woman didn't strike her as a morsel that would normally be of any interest. Puzzled about her own reaction to the ugly girl, she had followed her and learned something about her. Not only was she ugly, but very masculine. She even practiced fencing in a gentleman's club. It made her laugh. And Brienne was also very contrite in regards to young couples. She would look flustered whenever she accidentally came across a nocturnal tryst of any sort. The idea came to mind then, that Cersei just _had_ to play with this innocent beast of a woman. Soon enough Cersei wanted to crush the ungainly, freckled girl with the same intensity that she wanted to suck her dry. And she intended to do both. Jaime was reluctant at first, but he obeyed. He always did. Regardless of how eager she was to leave for Dorne, she had taken a detour that night to observe her prey. She had even winked at Brienne after saying, “for a big thing you can be quite graceful”. She’d joy at how uncomfortable it made the innocent beast. She savored the thought of that silly girl falling into her trap, and then dying in her arms. When she imagined their triumph she had pictured Jaime by her side, laughing with her and kissing her. Jaime was supposed to seduce the dumb bitch and then they would both crush her, and laugh at her pathetic innocence and her soiled pride. In reality, all had gone wrong. He wasn't supposed to be standing by her side, angrily holding her hand and observing that dumb bitch with such concern. And that beast of a woman was not supposed to become one of them. That horrible girl wasn't supposed to have the indecency to look at Cersei with triumph in her eyes. It was ridiculous. She was trapped and unable to escape but still she had dared to look at Cersei like she was the victor. A little part inside of her wanted to scream because the beast of a woman was right. Cersei had indeed lost Jaime. She gritted her teeth and she did not scream. She did not as much as twitch. She would never show her feelings to her traitor of a brother. No, he wouldn't see her cry.

 

“Who did you feed her with?” Despite the noise and horrifying scene, she was quite proud of herself, of how much more she knew. How much Jaime ignored. And she was enjoying letting him know that he had been close to losing that stupid ugly woman, that his fledging had been so close to becoming a soulless shell. “I don't understand,” he continued, Jaime's confused stare only feeding her feelings of superiority. 

 

He was the weak one, not her. It had always been him, the overly romantic, honorable one. The one that was too fragile to confront harsh truths. Even now, he only hunted criminals and sometimes even suicidal men. As if it mattered. The only reason she still killed abusive men was because their blood tasted better to her. Once the initial joy she received by ending these men's lives had decreased, she needed new excitements. Every time she went a step further. First she thought, why kill them only when they had committed the crime, why not target the one who toyed with the idea as well? Cersei didn't care about the innocent anymore. She cared about destroying the ones who sought power and control. Then slowly she amplified her targeted victims to those who had tried to be violent with weaker beings. Then she turned her eye to those weaker beings that were even nastier to those underneath them. It seemed that once she removed the abuser, the victims did nothing but become abusers themselves. It repulsed her so much she had to end their pathetic lives. Eventually her pool of choices grew to include all the aforementioned cases and also men and women who thought they were better than others. She found that quality to be ever present, the root of it all. She didn't care about justice, no. She cared about crushing those pitiful creatures. Jaime would never go as far, he only preyed on the deserving and the willing. Her brother, the soldier, the knight, so carefully measured every time he chose his prey. 

 

When they were humans she had been enraged by how different they were treated as they grew older. They were always so similar, so alike, that sometimes they exchanged clothes for days to confuse others. Jaime wasn't ashamed and neither was she. All that had ended when Jaime had been given a sword and she had been given a needle. Later they had given her ravishing dresses while Jaime was given golden armor. While he trained, she sang, and while he went to war, she went to balls. While they feared his sword, nobody feared her mounting rage. She took umbrage at how distinctly they were treated. It exasperated her, but at least he always did her biding. Jaime was always loyal and silly, believing every lie she fed him. She had even managed to make him believe that they would be together even after she married Rhaegar. Rhaegar would have been a wonderful companion, far better than Jaime. Rhaegar was valiant and he’d been handsomer than Jaime. 

 

Her heart had shattered that fated day when the one turning to receive her at the altar had been not Rhaegar, but his father. 

 

That disgusting monster. 

 

Rhaegar had defended her, defied his own father and so she longed for him, loved him. She only ever wanted to cure the sadness in his eyes, but he never succumbed to her charms, however hard she tried. He remained loyal to that simple Elia. She never understood it. What did that common girl have that she didn't? Jaime had always said that she was more beautiful than all the women at court, including stupid Elia. At least she had Jaime to offer her some solace in her revolting life as the wife of Aerys II. Jaime remained unchanged, always loyal to her, even after they left their humanity behind. She was not, she could not help but change. He always said he loved her. That he found her beautiful. She was always the most beautiful creature that had ever walked the earth to him. She knew she was. Her beauty was not the problem. What Jaime didn't know was that she had lost the capacity to love the same day they both lost their lives. Her heart was an empty hole and she filled it with whatever made her life exciting, whatever made her feel powerful. And she did so in whatever way she could exact her revenge humanity. She didn't pity her prey, no. She wasn't weak like most of her kind. Never would she be seen dramatically throwing herself on a pyre, or waiting for the morning to arrive out of guilt. Cersei knew the depths to which humans could sink. She was too aware of them. 

 

The change gave her an opportunity for revenge and she took it. At the beginning they had known only fear under the care of the Dragon Lady, but she taught them much as well. That first time she saw evidence of what Jaime had told her about the Dragon Lady's strange body Cersei had trembled in fear and surprise. No part of her wanted to become like that reptilian creature that had turned them into unearthly beings. Though the white-haired witch could transform her limbs with such haste the process in itself wasn't initially clear. The final result was a mass of scales that ended in five claws, inserted in the other vampire's chest, the witch's doomed lover. Yet slowly, as days passed, Cersei recognized that her power had some more attractive features. Their maker was her own mistress and responded to no one. Never before had Cersei seen women exercise their own agency in the way their maker did. Their maker held so much power and control over her own destiny. The Dragon Lady had no father to indicate to her with whom she should associate, no brother to protect her from abuse, nor need of one, and not even her lovers seemed to exercise any form of control over her. How she had murdered that giant of a lover she had was proof enough of that. That creature knew no restraint. Their maker was strong on her own yet she was no longer a human woman…but neither was Cersei. Soon that frightful stare that she had every time she saw her maker had turned into a covetous one. Cersei yearned for that power. That witch might be a Targaryen, as her pendant suggested, yet she was powerful beyond measure. In a way, it seemed a jest the gods were making on her, to be released from one mad Targaryen only to fall under the claws of another. Even then, she wanted to learn, and seized every chance she had to observe and analyze her maker's every move. 

 

It was still clear in her mind the day she saw that one quality she had later learned how to use so well. Their maker had just come back from hunting and she seemed to be in a good mood. She had even smiled and winked at her when Jaime could not see, he was busy feeding. She dared to smile briefly back at the strange witch. Their maker responded by a slight widening of her expression, exposing her pointy fangs. Cersei forced herself to avoid flinching, despite the flow of fear that filled her. The witch came to them then and Cersei began to regret her actions, wishing she had kept to herself, hidden and small, as she usually did. But the white-haired witch only stared at Jaime and then told him what a good boy he was, finishing all his food and making “mother” proud. Jaime only tightened his grip on his dead prey and observed her in annoyance at being interrupted. It was a very short rebellion. The Dragon Lady's next words were imposing despite their simplicity. She merely told him it wasn't right to observe one's mother with such contempt and to finish his food. Jaime obeyed immediately. Later as they discussed the incident alone, he had admitted it had been the fear that forced his mouth shut. Cersei knew better, she saw his lie. It had been their maker, she had forced him to remain quiet and obey without even having to say the words. Cersei was thrilled. She practiced with her prey from that day onwards. Even now she didn't possess such magnificent control as she had observed that day, but she had improved greatly. 

 

Shortly after their maker left them, Cersei confronted the demons of her past in blind rage. Those days she felt as in a tunnel of darkness and pain, she sank deep into utter despair and madness. It hand been difficult but she came back from the task triumphantly. Cersei's murderous desires went rampant and took over her entire being. She learned much from those days. No longer was she a feeble human woman, she was a glorious and powerful goddess, strong on her own. She didn't need Jaime's sword any longer. 

 

Yet Jaime wanted her, and she enjoyed his company more than anyone else's. Nevertheless, she resented him for being weak, for not being able to face their shared truth. Years and years she waited as patiently as possible, but he never recalled that fateful day they should have died. A few times she tried to talk to him about it, but he would only abandon her, complaining about a strange headache. It seemed he only wanted to forget it, to avoid the subject altogether. He had disappointed her greatly, though she continued to allow him to be near her, as a reminder of their past, of _them_. And after all, he was a constant in her life, even when she was independent she found his presence comforting. 

 

She is the one who leaves others, not the other way around. What Jaime was doing with this creature of a woman was preposterous, pretending to care about the little beast. It was beyond absurd, a fleeting fancy. How could he prefer something that was barely a woman at all? How could he choose that beast instead of her? His mirror discarded for a freak, how could he even entertain such a thought? How could he even think about breaking his promise to her? He should have been thankful to her, for she still waited for him to be able to face that hard truth. He had disappointed her so much. The day that he told Cersei that he had comforted her, had stayed with her and held her in his arms as she cried, was because he thought her afraid of their maker, had made her furious. How could he forget about _them_? Their own blood! Even then she somehow believed one day he would remember. She had been so patient with him and he had been so ungrateful as to want to leave her for this pathetic excuse for a woman. And he wasn't even well informed enough to be able to transform her properly, it made his twin laugh. 

 

“Who did she kill yesterday? Whose blood did she take?” She asked him, smiling.

 

“Just mine, and as you can see I am still here,” he said, angrily.

 

“Impressive pet,” she said, with pure contempt. A small flicker of rage passed through her features but she controlled herself, she wouldn't allow him to see that it mattered that Brienne had drunk from him.

 

“She is not a pet,” said he pressing her harder.

 

“I don't care. You can go to her, tie her and yourself to a tree and die burning for all I care. I have no need for you. You are too tame now.” _Let him know how much I despise him now, for preferring this wretched thing,_ she thought. 

 

At that precise moment Brienne stood up, breathing with difficulty and stood quiet.

 

“How odd, she did not finish Taena,” said Cersei dismissively. However the black-haired beauty lay on the floor looking less than glorious in that moment. She would need much blood to recover herself. “She was close though,” she appreciated lightly.

 

“Who bit her?” She said almost casually. Jaime stood quiet, lessening the hold he had on her and looking nervous. _Is it shame that you are experiencing, little brother?_ She thought, curiously.

 

With unexpected pain she realized what it all meant, not that he had simply not protected her from being bitten by another, but that he had not protected the ugly girl from himself. Seizing his arm with her free hand she wrenched it violently and almost screaming, spoke to him. “You? You drank from her? You, Jaime? You made her?” 

 

Betrayal was written in his face, he even seemed to be in pain from her simple gripping. He was such a disappoint. He had betrayed her. She could still not believe it. “It was a joke, just a play, a jest, that was all, Jaime, mere chaff, but you... you... you. The one who swore that would always love me, you...” Trembling with rage she freed her hand from his. “Little brother... this is war” And as she said it she looked at him, happy for a moment to see his surprise. Cersei turned, effortlessly scooping up Taena, and left, climbing through the broken ceiling. 

 

She had not stayed long enough to see that the surprise in Jaime's eyes had nothing to do with her, but with Brienne.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Brienne turned to stare at Jaime, he looked shocked. Her eyes were various shades bluer now, more intense than he had ever seen them. Her nose was no longer broken, no scar tainted her face and her previously dull hair was shinny now. Even among humans there would be prettier creatures, but at that precise moment he saw no flaws in Brienne. 

 

Yet there was something else, something strange about her eyes.

 

Brienne turned again, slowly, and started tearing her clothes to pieces. She then used the shreds to clean herself carefully. After that she walked outside, still holding the rags in her hands, and Jaime followed her. Without speaking, she let the rags fall to the floor. Her eyes focused on a nearby pond, and she broke the frozen surface with her bare fists and then threw herself into the cold waters. Absent-mindedly she started cleaning herself in it. There was indeed not a single trace of her scars or any fresh wounds on her body. It was as muscular as ever, but he found that he liked it just as it was. They were lucky they were not in Winterfell, Jaime didn't think he would have been able to explain why the Lady Brienne would be naked in the snow, bathing in freezing water. 

 

She seemed to be concentrated, or even trapped, in herself. However much Jaime tried to talk to her, she ignored him. There was a strange and menacing air around her, a threat so clear he could almost touch it. It indicated clearly that it was best to keep a respectful distance from her.

 

After washing herself thoroughly, she stood in the pond for some time before she stood up and began to walk towards the ruins again. Jaime called her several times, but she didn't seem to care or even understand him. So he continued to follow her, worried at her lack of reaction. What if Cersei was wrong? What if she had become a soulless ghoul? Brienne found a door to the cellar and got in, and there she lay on the floor. Jaime closed the door and stood there, vigilant as she slept. Brienne seemed to sleep all night. A day passed in the same way, and when the sun set she rose again. He moved silently to let her leave the cellar. She walked outside again and stood quiet, smelling the air. She stood smelling it for some time and then ran in the direction of the human smell. 

 

He had to stop her. 

 

Luckily he was still faster than she was and arrived to see the humans. One of them was only a peasant, but the other two... they were up to no good. He took the peasant by the waist and drove him as far away from there as possible. No more than five heartbeats of that poor man had drummed scared in his chest when Jaime could hear the screams that indicated the moment Brienne came in contact with the two robbers. Their screams tore the air but soon there was silence.

 

The peasant was obviously frightened, unable to understand what happened. He left him in a tree and asked him to stay quiet. The poor scared man had seen nothing, it was too dark in that tree and Jaime had been too fast for him to understand. He left him and went back to Brienne. She had finished them and was on her way to the pond again. It had been carnage. He felt hopeless. Everything indicated that Brienne was not in control of herself, if there was still any consciousness left in her at all. Jaime buried their remains after he tore their heads from their bodies. They didn't need mindless ghouls roaming around. He already had his hands full with the bizarre state Brienne was in.

 

For three nights she behaved thus. Jaime's anguish increased with each of those days but he didn't abandon her. Even if she was a mindless ghoul, he was going to protect her, even if just to keep her conscience clean if she ever woke up. For her, he kept trying to save the innocents. He barely ate himself, but tried to suck some blood as well to avoid becoming a mindless killer like his charge. The first night she had only slept after feeding off Taena, and the second she ate the highwaymen. On the third night Brienne was about to attack a group of children when he found the abusive man that was with them and he threw him at her back. She turned in rage but still attacked the man. He took his chance to scare the children away. Brienne and him were too dirty with leaves, mud and snow to be recognizable, or so Jaime hoped. His smell had certainly collaborated in frightening them. He was sure his stench was terrible. He hadn't bathed periodically as Brienne did. Though he wouldn’t ignored what level of comprehension she did possess and tried to stay away from her, keeping a safe distance. After that event, Jaime trying to save the children, Brienne seemed to be annoyed at him. It was all he could do not to cry. It was his fault that she had become this creature, incapable of thought or argument. She was like a bear, moving around with ferocity and instinct. Whatever her destiny might be, Jaime decided to remain next to her. _I won't break my oath to you my lady, I won't let you die or be killed, I won't leave you,_ he swore in silence.

 

A thousand times he cursed himself for blindly obeying his sister, for chasing Brienne. For insisting and staying around her long enough that he started to feel for her. For not having met her on his own, and fallen for her sooner. For putting her in the situation she was in now. He cursed himself for ever tormenting her and for not tormenting her more and for losing the chance to keep tormenting her for all eternity now that she was nothing more than a ferocious animal. He had murdered her soul. And for what? Cersei? He cursed himself for ever loving his sister and for her lack of devotion to him, for never questioning her orders. For being absolutely sure that, despite all she had done, she would always be beautiful for him. He hated himself for even thinking about such things while Brienne was in such terrible state. 

 

 _Little brother, this is war,_ had been Cersei’s last words to him. Only in that month and a half his relationship with her had taken a turn for the worse. His beautiful sister, his mirror, the one who _was_ his mirror, the one who he had thought would be with him forever, was now almost a stranger. She was someone he didn't know. Someone he had failed to realize was a very sour woman, despite her immense beauty and riches. Now she had everything she could have wanted, yet still she seemed angry. Why? And how could she dare to be angry with him? She had been with several others. Jaime had only ever been with her and Brienne. With no one else! Just them. And not even simultaneously, as she had. What did Cersei think? That Jaime was something she owned? A pet that should wait for his turn to receive some attention and love? No, he wasn't a pet, or a puppet, at least not anymore. He gave utter devotion to those he loved, he expected equal attention. 

 

Jaime couldn't puzzle out what had made him become so attached to Brienne. One couldn't really say that she was the image of what was commonly associated with femininity, yet she was loyal and true. She felt real in a society with a tendency to teach its individuals to lie or die. She wasn't particularly soft or tender in her ways, but he liked a violent woman, that he couldn't deny. And she was honorable and brave in ridiculous measures. Brienne probably didn't want to involve him in her fight with Cersei. She had said it before, “ _I will not escape and I will not be defeated without a fight. It will be wise for you, not to intervene next time such fight occurs_.” It had been almost a command. Of course he didn't intend to follow it. It had been unfortunate that he had been with the Targaryen witch while Brienne went to confront Cersei. And it had been more tribulation that Tyrion had arrived just when he was about to go back to Winterfell, to inform him of their sister's escape. If they planned faster how to divide their forces and search for her, had he thought about the ruins sooner, had he caught her scent earlier, had he never left Brienne alone in the first place when it was clear she was hiding something…then none of this would have happened. It frustrated him to no end that he couldn't think of a solution for his trouble. He had an urgency to solve it, to amend Brienne, but had no clue how. He couldn't even approach her.

 

It was a tragedy. Where, underneath this aberrant entity, was Brienne? Had any part of her survived? Would he see her again? Should she want to live as she was or would she have preferred to die? Yet he couldn't move himself to think about such dilemmas, he didn't want to be the one ending her life, whatever she would have chosen had she been given the chance. Loyal, stubborn, and honest Brienne was the one true and pure aspect of his life. Or at least she used to be, before she became the strange specter she was now. 

 

And even then, he couldn't help but admire her strong body as she lay asleep in a corner. Yes, her body wasn't delicate, but athletic. It anguished him to think that she could probably never recover, never again look at him with reprimanding eyes or open her mouth in outrage at something he had said. Anything would be preferable to this husk of a person. He would even be thankful if she would wake up if only to punch him or pierce him with a sword. 

 

It was the fourth night. He was just starting to leave the stupor after the sun set, when he realized that Brienne was staring at him, not with the emptiness of the previous days but as a creature that had understanding. She looked on him with a stare that clearly indicated intelligence and recognition.

 

“Jaime?” She whispered in her beautiful, strong but now ragged voice.

 

He cried, happiness overwhelmed him “Brienne!” _She's not a ghoul!_

 

“What happened? Where are we? Why am I naked?” She said, trying to use one arm as leverage to stand but failing, apparently she was feeling dizzy.

 

He went to her, and hugged her with all his might, not caring about his strength for once, he was sure she could take it now. 

 

“Jaime? What is going on?” She asked, confused.

 

“You are well, all is well,” he whispered back to her, crying and holding her tightly to his chest in pure relief and joy, wrapping his arms around her fiercely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's out there now. I went this way because I'm tired of reading vampire stories where the vampires are such nice people they make Gandhi look bad. Being around a vampire is just a bad idea unless you want to 1) die or 2) turn into a vampire (which is in a way the same as 1)). If temptation is so great, and if they are weak they should just fall for it. No way around it. And becoming a vampire shouldn't be glamorous. At least that is what I believe. Let me know what you think.


	19. An overwhelmed lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened when Brienne finally woke up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay and thank you for reading this, and special thanks if you comment. A thousand thanks to H3L, I'm learning quite a lot with this experience! There were so many good fics for Halloween! I would have liked to think about sth as well but since this has vampires then well, it's something already.

The first thing she saw was Jaime sitting in front of a door. It was very dark, but she could still see him. In fact, she could see everything. She could clearly see the moss growing on the rocks, on the wood, the insects eating the wood and the plants clinging and crawling on the floor. The noises from the forest were also as flawless, and felt close, as if she was standing out there with her ear to the ground. She could hear the insects and worms moving underground, the leaves that were about to fall from the trees, defeated by the heavy weight of the snow. She sensed the tensed muscles of a wolf about to attack its prey and so much more. It was as if a veil had lifted from every sense she had and now she could perceive the entire world in real detail. It was mesmerizing.

 

Why was she experiencing all this? Why was she naked? Had she...what happened? 

 

When she spoke, it sounded as if she hadn't used her voice in days, she couldn't understand what had happened to her. And Jaime's reaction was strange too. He was so happy, as if he hadn't seen her in years. She knew she was naked, but she wasn't cold. Even then, his hands holding her made her feel warm and happy. Despite his stench and all the strangeness of the situation, for a second she felt the need to melt into him. It felt almost as if it should be natural. 

 

Once she had recovered from her reverie she pushed him gently away to look at him and asked again. “What happened? Where are we? What happened to you?” She didn't recall coming to that abandoned building in the first place. And Jaime... not only did he stink, he was in a poor state. His clothes were covered in dirt and snow, torn and disheveled. He had twigs and moss entangled in his now wretched hair. 

 

“We went through some difficulties, my lady, but we have survived,” he was smiling in such a way, with such relief, she thought his mouth was going to surpass the limits of his face.

 

“But what happened, why are we here?” She was intrigued and terribly confused by all the colors, the smells, the noises and by the strangeness of the situation they were in. 

 

“You don't remember? I don't know why you here. I found you. Cersei somehow tricked you…” and his voice grew weaker and weaker until he stopped abruptly, she didn't hear him anymore. In fact, she didn't hear anything at all. Then his voice seemed to come back, first as something that was far away and wasn't quite clear until it became strong again “Brienne, are you there?”

 

“Yes, why?” she felt strangely dizzy. All the noises came back to life again. It made her even more confused.

 

He looked concerned “For some minutes there I thought I lost you again.”

 

“I don't understand what you mean,” she said, truthfully.

 

“You, you went just blank when I mentioned...” He frowned and seemed to be lost in thought “What is the last thing you remember?”

 

She blinked and then closed her eyes, trying to recall. But it was hard and it made her head ache painfully. Memories were blurry, as if they were dancing to a tune that was too fast for her to see or understand a thing. Finally she said, “I remember riding in the forest, as fast as I could, there was an emergency, but I don't remember what it was.”

 

“It will take her sometime,” said a known voice behind the door.

 

Jaime covered Brienne with his jacket and opened the door. “Tyrion!”

 

“My dear brother, you forgot about me completely. I have been searching for you all over the North. Then one of my friends gave an alert for a ghoul, so we came here to check,” it was the same quaint little man she had met not long ago. Curiously enough she didn't exactly remember when, “I see that your lady is in perfect health”

 

“Yes, but she is very confused,” said Jaime in his concerned voice.

 

“It is normal, my lady,” said the little man, and she was thankful to be addressed directly and not spoken to as if she were a child. “It’s part of the process. In a couple of days the memories will come back.” Brienne could have sworn, there seemed to be something odd in the way he said it.

 

“Thank you, my lord,” she replied, despite her doubts. 

 

_He's lying._

 

She just knew, it wasn't at all clear how did she knew, but she did, and immediately she became tense and alert.

 

“My lady, Brienne, you can call me Tyrion,” he said, taking his hat off and tilting his head to the side.

 

“In that case, I would rather be called Brienne. I am not a proper lady,” she said, slightly flustered.

 

Tyrion seemed to be amused by her reaction but he nodded. “Very well, Brienne, I would suggest you two a bit of rest. For now it might be safer to leave this place. Maybe it's time for you to visit Casterly Rock”

 

“No, we should go back to Winterfell. We have to, otherwise father will worry.” She had a strange urge to be back in Winterfell. It wasn't clear to her what made her feel like that, yet she knew she had to return. Plus, she felt she couldn't trust this man.

 

Jaime and Tyrion stared at each other. 

 

“You should forget about these human issues for now, my lady,” insisted Tyrion. 

 

Brienne flinched. 

 

 _Human issues? Then this is it? Am I really...? Is this what it feels like... to have died?_

 

Since she woke up and started experiencing all the new sensations, she suspected it. Now, it was confirmed. Yet she didn't feel dead. Quite the opposite, despite her coming and going dizziness, she felt her senses were exploding with so many stimuli. It wasn't something she would get used to easily. It drove her to distraction even now.

 

“In Casterly Rock people have learned to remain quiet about our activities. Our successors have learned to coexist with us. They never meddle, know how to keep quiet. _Discreet as a Lannister_ is a very well-known phrase.”

 

It was true. She had heard it many times. Recently she had heard other rumors. Probably due to her constant association with Jaime, more and more was said near her about his family. It was mentioned that the Lannisters lived in their Rock and lands, almost as a disassociated entity from the rest of the Kingdom. They never interacted with the other houses more than for commerce. It was known that all the gold was owned by them. Apparently whenever members of the house wanted to dispute their authority, whoever started the revolt disappeared. And whenever other forces tried to attack them they failed miserably. It was said that a lion would swallow anyone who dared defy them. They were respected, but mostly they were feared. It was only in the presence of Jaime that they seemingly forgot their fear. She had seen this many times. How even those skeptics’ frowns turned to smiles in his presence, become genuinely glad to see him. However, many that had only heard of them, and not met the infamous Lannisters, resented them. _Lannister’s lie_ was a phrase far more famous than the one Tyrion had mentioned. It didn't help that she had just perceived one of the Lannisters lying to her.

 

“Neither the country nor the crown bother us. It is the most suitable place for you now, until you learn better how to blend with humans. I can arrange a carriage that will take us there,” insisted Tyrion again.

 

“It's true, despite the fact that there are humans leaving on the outskirts of Casterly Rock, they never question our authority. You will not be bothered there, that will not be the case in Winterfell. What my brother is trying to say, is that you are no longer human. You don't look like you used to. It would surprise them…at best,” continued Jaime.

 

Brienne touched her face instinctively and gasped. Her nose! It was not broken as before. The scar on her face had disappeared as well. She threw Jaime's jacket to the floor and observed her body, it was the same but at the same different. The scars and bruises that had once covered her entire body were all gone and she was paler than she used to be. Her hands looked delicate, feminine. She couldn't remember when the last time was that they had looked like that. 

 

“It is not just that, your eyes,” said Jaime as he kneeled in front of her. “I don't think they will understand how this drastic change came to be.” 

 

“So then... it did happen. Am I...what is it that you call yourselves?” She knew what she was, what she had become, but she needed confirmation.

 

“I'm afraid you are, my lady... We call ourselves many things, yet most call us vampires.” He looked terribly concernedly at her, as if he were observing her on the border of a cliff that she were about to jump from.

 

Curiously, all the new noises, smells and colors clouded her mind. She remembered not wanting to become one of them, a vampire. At the same time, she remembered having promised never to kill herself. Though now, with the strange vitality she felt singing in her body and her heightened senses tingling through her, she didn't know how anyone could want to.

 

Then another thought came to mind. It started as the smallest of inclinations. Then it grew and took a definite shape, and that idea took over all others.

 

“Even then, we have to go back. At least let me send a letter to my father from there. And we have to see if Lady Sansa is safe,” she said, when an inexplicable need to see if Lady Sansa was safe overwhelmed her. There was a reason for her worry that she couldn't explain, but she needed to see for herself that the Lady was well.

 

“Why are you worried about her?” Asked Jaime, intrigued.

 

“I don't know, I just am. We need to go back,” she asserted impatiently.

 

“Very well, I won't be far away. We are not safe from our sweet lioness yet. I found she had a spy in Winterfell,” said Tyrion, peaking from behind his hat. It seemed he had very chivalrously covered his face with it when Brienne had shed Jaime’s jacket. Feeling slightly embarrassed by her own behavior, she covered herself once more.

 

At the same time she realized that that information somehow sounded familiar. “That's true,” Brienne agreed, but she couldn't recall when she’d found out. She tried but the memory was eluding her, and the effort only tired her. A sudden dizziness overcame Brienne and she leaned on Jaime for support.

 

“Never mind about her, it's solved. You should go now,” said Tyrion dispassionately, but it made Brienne shudder for some reason.

 

Jaime rearranged his jacket, closing it carefully this time, and he helped her to stand up. Once she felt better, they left the cellar. The place seemed oddly familiar, and then her eyes observed a piece of clothing on the floor. She approached it and held it in her hands. Lady Sansa's dress.

 

“Jaime... why is my little lady's dress in here?” She was trembling, from rage or fear, she knew not. “Where is she?”

 

“My lady... It must be Cer-...” Yet he stopped, the giddiness bloomed weakly and died quite quickly. Jaime observed her carefully before continuing, “it must be part of the reason why you came here.”

 

“Do not concern yourself with the lady, she is safe,” said Tyrion again, slowly climbing the stairs. 

 

“Come Brienne, we should leave,” Jaime gently drew near until he touched her shoulders. She merely observed him, somehow confused by her own reaction. Gingerly, he removed with his free hand the dress from her grip and tossed it on the floor. She felt a strange loss at leaving it there, but was unsure of why she was experiencing such bizarre feelings. 

 

Then she saw something else that caught her attention. Without speaking, she went to retrieve Oathkeeper from the floor. She could clearly see that some commotion had taken place. There was dried blood on the stony floor. Narrowing her eyes, yet unable to remember, she took the scabbard, the belt and the sword. Placing the belt on her waist, the sword in the scabbard and the scabbard on said belt, she went back to Jaime. He offered his arm, like a gentleman would do to a lady. Though she wasn't one, she took it anyway.

 

Jaime took her outside. A man and a young lad were there, apparently waiting for their Lord. In reality they were not men, but more of _their_ kind…her kind now. She knew them. She had no recollection from where, but she knew them. The man stood relaxed, laying his back to a stone and merely observing the snow falling and ignoring them. The young man stood firm as a soldier. He nodded and saluted them.

 

“Ser, my Lady,” he addressed them as the approached, he was very polite. 

 

“Relax, young man, we are not the queen and king,” jested Jaime.

 

“Of course, Ser, but you are my lord's brother, Ser,” said the young fellow, bowing.

 

“Thank you, you are very kind, Ser,” Brienne replied to his greeting.

 

“Pod, my name is Podrick, my lady, I am not a Ser.”

 

“And I am not a lady, you may call me Brienne.” She smiled encouragingly. Suddenly the man next to Pod whistled and stared her from head to toe. Brienne observed him, confused. He was smirking at her and Jaime's grip on her tightened in response. For some reason she felt the need to close the jacket more tightly and place her arms over her chest.

 

“It might be better if both of you address the Lady Brienne with respect, she is a noblewoman after all,” Jaime insisted from beside her. The man continued smirking but he nodded in acceptance.

 

“You heard them Pod, we are to call her Lady Brienne, no less, no more,” the strange man affirmed finally, placing a hand amicably on the young one's shoulder.

 

“Dear Bronn, I hope you have not showed any discourtesy to our new friend, our novice, the Lady Brienne,” said Tyrion as he appeared at the entrance. 

 

“Of course not, I was just admiring her,” said Bronn, raising one eyebrow.

 

“I'm at your service,” continued Pod, politely, ignoring his companion's rude behavior. Brienne found that she liked the boy. He was possibly no older than 15, at least when he stopped being human. He could be centuries old, she supposed, yet he still treated her with respect as if she was the adult. 

 

“With your permission, we must depart. It was a pleasure meeting you,” Pod's lips flickered and then he nodded. Bronn merely touched his hat and Tyrion told them to be careful. 

 

They left on foot. It was strange to feel the snow, the cold, the wind, but not be affected by it. She continued to be mesmerized by all the life that kept on thriving in that cold, all the sounds she had never heard and the things she had never seen before. Her world expanded and the details that were once hidden to her now clearer than they had ever been. It came as a surprise when they finally reached Winterfell. She could have sworn it took her longer to reach the ruins when she was running with Honor. 

 

“How did we-?” She began to ask. It didn't seem that they had rushed much, they only seemed to have barely run a bit a couple of minutes before.

 

“You will get used to it, it's how we move,” he interrupted, while removing his boots. “Wear these”

 

“I am not cold, Jaime,” she started, unable to understand why would he ignore this matter.

 

“We have to keep up some appearances, Brienne, you already look too strange,” he gently admonished.

 

Reluctantly she obeyed. She knew Jaime did not feel cold, but still she felt bad for taking his boots. When she finished lacing them up, he closed all the buttons of the jacket and looked her over critically. 

 

“Our clothes, we have enough forest dirt to make our story believable. Its lie or they will think we eloped.” Brienne felt embarrassed but even so she inquired.

 

“What story?” 

 

He replied with a whisper, “I see some people coming. Let me talk, please?”

 

Lord Eddard Stark approached them with a group of his men. He looked stern and thought she could see some relief in his eyes when he observed her. He was visibly upset at seeing Jaime next to her. Jaime invented a story about them being attacked by some bandits but that they managed to escape. Lord Eddard seemed to believe them and told them that they had been very worried when Honor returned without Lady Brienne. Lord Eddard directed them to their bedrooms and ordered the maids to prepare bath and food for them. Jaime told them that food was probably unnecessary, that they needed to rest more than anything. Brienne agreed, while staring at her own feet, wishing with all her might that he accepted her, that he wouldn't notice the changes in her. It seemed Lord Eddard really didn't notice, or he was too busy with other worries to, because as soon as they were in their rooms, he left. He was mumbling something about letters and a missing maid.

 

In her room she stared at herself in the mirror. It was no wonder the Lord Stark hadn't found anything strange in her, she was so covered in dirt and leaves one could barely notice her face.

Once she had bathed and changed, she observed herself again. No trace of her wounds or her broken nose remained in that immaculate pale face. She touched her cheek, still not believing that this was her. Her skin was soft, in every place it seemed. She had noticed as she bathed. It pained her. She would be discovered soon, Jaime and Tyrion had been right. Yet she felt compelled to be in Winterfell, to offer some explanation to her father before disappearing, if that was what she had to do. After she finished analyzing herself, she went to the window and closed the curtains. If the change was complete, it was better to assume she couldn't bear the sight of the sun anymore. Somehow she felt compelled to complete a series of tasks. The urgency to keep Lady Sansa and the Queen, as well as her own father and Lord Renly, safe were the only things in her mind. What she was to do with herself, what had really happened to her and what it really meant being what she was now, could be dealt with later. 

 

Brienne took paper and ink and began a letter to her father. He was probably worried if the Starks had written him, which she could not imagine them neglecting to do when Honor returned without her. As soon as she was sure that Lady Sansa was safe, she would leave. As if answering her concern the door opened and Brienne smelled her before seeing her. Here she was, the lovely Lady Sansa, as happy as Brienne had ever seen her. 

 

“My dear, lady Brienne,” said the red-haired beauty, before running to her and hugging her with her delicate arms. “I am very sorry for my impertinence, but I needed to see you,” she cried, as tears bathed her cheeks and Brienne's neck.

 

Brienne was shocked but hugged the young lady back with as much care as she could. Even when she was a normal woman she would have been able to crush the delicate lady. Apart from her father and Jaime, she had never been hugged in such a way before. As she recovered from it, she felt very relieved to see that Lady Sansa was alive and well.

 

“I am well, my lady, and glad to see you in good health,” mumbled Brienne into Sansa’s auburn locks.

 

Sansa let go and looked at her, frozen. “Your,” she looked confused, “I would have sworn your nose and the wound... I must be mistaken. You are very pale my lady,” she touched Brienne’s face and Brienne wanted to avoid the girl’s hands, but at the same time didn't want to hurt the little lady. Luckily she was wearing gloves. Brienne prayed that Lady Sansa wouldn't consider her changes to be too strange, that Sansa would somehow overlook them. The confusion seemed to dissipate as she stared deeply into Brienne's eyes and smiled, it was as if she recognized her still, somehow. “I am so glad that you are unhurt, father told me that you were abducted.”

 

Brienne exhaled and disentangled herself from the girl. “Yes” said she, staring at the floor. It was curious how, even now, she detested lying. She wanted to change the topic of conversation, “I am also glad that you are well, but do tell me, why are you here? I thought you were in the Vale.”

 

“For some reason I never received answers to my letters and grew worried, so I came home earlier than expected. Even when I sent a letter to announce myself, I was unexpected. Father was quite surprised. But I will go back there soon, I have reasons to...” 

 

Again, she had the feeling this piece of information was not new, but just as before she knew not how she knew about the letters. However much she thought about it, it was difficult and it only gave her a headache and no answers. She couldn't remember where she had heard it.

 

“Are you unwell, my lady?” Sansa approached her with concerned eyes.

 

“No, it's just... I'm tired...” Then she added, “is the Queen well?”

 

“Yes, she is, she is still here. I am sure she will come to see you tomorrow.”

 

“I wouldn't expect that... that would be... strange from the Queen. I am content knowing she is in good health.”

 

“I am sure she will come, she likes you. She is very reserved in how she imparts her appreciation, but she likes you,” said Sansa beaming. “I should let you rest, sleep well, my lady.” She gave a little curtsy and left. She stopped briefly in the door, and seemed to doubt herself before she looked back at her. Brienne feared that she had noticed, that she would tell. But Sansa smiled again and said, “You look different, but I have been told... it could happen. You look... pretty, perhaps I look prettier as well,” said the girl, blushing as she closed the door behind her.

 

Brienne was confused and embarrassed and, probably most of all, surprised. She had no clue what the girl meant, but somehow knew that there was no malice in her, what Sansa had said was well-intentioned. She felt the need to walk around to distract her mind. As she was about to enter the hall she heard two voices speaking. She thought they were in the hall, in fact they were in an adjacent room, quite far from where she was standing, yet she could hear them as if they were next to her.

 

“I don't trust that man. There is something wrong with him and he is a Lannister.”

 

“Ned, he saved one of your sworn Lords, and also the Lady Brienne. It matters little if he is a Lannister,” said a female voice Brienne recognized as that of the Queen's.

 

“That whole ordeal is bizarre. What was his brother doing there? And the Lady Brienne is too much involved with him for her own good,” insisted Lord Stark.

 

“At least he knows her and cares for her for who she is, he is a brave man who cares little about the conventions.”

 

“He cares too little indeed, enough to besmirch the lady he professes to care about,” insisted Lord Stark again, with a tone that slapped Brienne hard in the face. It made her heart ache. He knew, of course he knew... She bit her lip and decided that her shame was too much, that they should leave tomorrow.

 

“Ned, a lady is more than her maidenhead, or would you say that I am less than a lady for what I went through?” Lady Lyanna asked, sounding furious.

 

Lord Stark gasped and then spoke, appalled, “Lya, that is different, you... it wasn't... it is completely different.”

 

“Lady Brienne is a brave woman. Whatever she decides to do with her future husband is no business of mine nor yours. You never complained about your friend when he wenched before, or after, marrying me. With what authority are you judging the Lady Brienne? I won’t have you speak ill of her in my presence,” she spoke with the authority of a Queen and no longer with the complicity of a sister.

 

“Yes, your Grace,” he replied.

 

She was immensely grateful to the Queen for defending her, but guilty at being the cause of a fight between brother and sister.

 

Lyanna stood quiet for some time, then sighed and continued, “Ned, forgive me. I understand your concern, but remember she saved your daughter. You are obligated to her, and the children love her. She is gentle with them. They are so isolated around here sometimes. She has been good to them.”

 

“My problem is not so much with the Lady Brienne as with her company. Lannisters are always pretending the problems of the Realm don't concern them. They act as if theirs was a separate state and never help when they could. _Lannister’s lie_ , he is only playing with her.”

 

Lyanna laughed briefly and scornfully “Ned, hear me, do you assume you know them? You don't. She might be naïve but she is not a fool. If she trust this Lannister, he might not be as bad as you paint him.”

 

“Lyanna, there is something wrong with him. I can tell. He is not to be trusted. There was something strange about the attack in Torrhen's Square.”

 

“Yet you said yourself, you were satisfied by his explanation.” 

 

“That was before. Consider the complete picture, all the odd things that had happened. Sansa's missing letters, the bandits that attacked them in the ruins, our missing maid, nothing like this has happened before he came,” maintained Lord Stark.

 

“The letters are a mysterious business indeed. Yet the missing maid could just have eloped with someone, other maids were gossiping about her lover. And about the bandits, you told me there were accounts of them by the smallfolk. There were bandits roaming around those ruins and murdering people.”

 

“Lyanna, that man is rotten, I know he is. He is our guest and I will not push him out, but I do not like him.”

 

“I trust the Lady Brienne's instincts, and if he manages to do anything strange I am sure he will soon be taught to behave by her.” 

 

Brienne felt another rush of infinite gratitude towards the Lady Lyanna for defending and trusting her. She had known so little love from the ladies of court during her life. Yet she felt a pang of guilt as well. The Lord Stark was right. They were not to be trusted since they were not really humans. It was settled, they should depart the following night.

 

The Lord Stark seemed to be interested in proceeding with the discussion, though she heard Lady Lyanna protest, “Dear Brother, cease with this torturous vice of yours. The business of Lady Brienne is far less appealing to me as some doubts I want confirmed or denied, and you know what doubts those are.”

 

He sighed before he replied “He will-”

 

“No,” she commanded.

 

“Lyanna... he should-”

 

“No, I won't allow it, I forbid it,” Lyanna contended.

 

“You can't, he is old enough to choose.”

 

“I'll write a decree to avoid it if necessary. He won't join the Black Legion, he has the right to marry. What would he do there in the first place? Defend the realm from non-existent monsters? Ned, if you don't convince him I will force him to abandon the idea. You know I will”

 

“That would be much too obvious. No, I will speak to him, yet I think that joining the Legion would be the best for him. They care little about origins and the indubitable truth is that he is no-one's real son. He can make a good life for himself there”

 

“No, he is far too young, he might find someone and then he will regret his choice. You will not let him go there,” she commanded again with the voice of a Queen.

 

“Then what do you intend him to do, Lyanna? He needs to make a life.”

 

She sighed, “I was hoping that now... with Rob... maybe when he was old enough…”

 

“No, sister, we can't tell him. If we do it will only fill him with strange ideas of what he could have been. No, it is best if he enlist. He can have a life made by his own progress, not his name.”

 

“He has a name, Ned; it is high time he acquires it. Ned, I couldn't ever thank you enough and I am so deeply sorry for the trouble it caused you with Catelyn. But I should be the one deciding this. I am his-”

 

“No,” he interrupted her, adamantly. “We can't. He has never been taught to rule, he would be lost in court. He is nothing but a boy, only 17 years old, he has no knowledge of noble life.”

 

“I will help him,” she cried in ragged desperation.

 

“No, Lyanna, it would only complicate matters more. We are in the verge of war. Stannis should be the one who takes the throne. Let the boy lead a normal life.”

 

“I disagree, yet you might be right, the Tyrells and Stannis are not to be trusted. They could hurt him.”

 

“What do you mean, sister?” Ned asked.

 

“Never trust the Tyrells, you don't know them. They are the most manipulate of families. Yes, Ned, even more than the Lannisters and that Stannis you so much want to give a crown. He is not fit to be a king. He can't even manage his own bizarre family. He is a man too full of resentment and if he is ever King, don't expect to be treated with as much appreciation as you have been until now.”

 

“Stannis is a rightful man,” Ned replied.

 

“That alone is not enough to make him a good King,” asserted Lyanna.

 

“Are you expecting me to support Renly?” Asked Lord Stark, exasperated.

 

She laughed again, “I wouldn't in a thousand years. He could organize a fantastic celebration, yet that is not enough to rule Westeros.” 

 

Those words hurt her, Lord Renly would be a great king, Brienne knew.

 

“What do you suggest me to do, then?” Asked Lord Stark, finally.

 

“Do what suits you best, but do not send him away. I want him close to me.”

 

“Lyanna...”

 

“Ned,” and her voice sounded strange, as if an inflexion had affected it. “I want him close, I want to know him. I must. All these years I wasn't able to, now I will be,” her voice cracked and it made Brienne awake from her reverie. She shouldn't be listening to this odd conversation. It was no longer about her, though she knew not of who they spoke. Whoever it was, it was of paramount importance for the Queen. Feeling very sad for the Queen, she returned to her room and packed her things.

 

A letter awaited her in her room. It seemed little Arya had been there and when she didn't find her, Arya left that letter for her. In the note she left for Brienne, the girl indicated that she was glad that Brienne was back and that she hoped they could still practice with Needle, as previously agreed. Brienne had no idea what the girl meant, she had no recollection of that conversation. There was so much she couldn't remember. So much she feared about those hidden memories. However, since she valued her word, she promised to herself that she would practice with Arya at least a bit before departing.

 

After that she lay in her bed and stared at the ceiling for hours. At some point she heard him, crawling in through the window. Before her change, he had always entered through the door. This new methodology would have scared her probably, much more than before, but now it only stirred her slightly. 

 

“So, you have decided to leave all pretenses behind, then?” She asked him as he came nearer.

 

“I expected that this time I couldn't scare you anymore,” replied Jaime, smiling that charming smile of his.

 

“You expected wrong, that was... rather unorthodox.”

 

“We are, in more than one way, quite unorthodox, my lady,” he commented, before running to her and hugging her and she forgave his strange methods. “Brienne, I need to tell you something.” And he step back and looked at her. “You must know that under no circumstances do I consider you less for what we shared. The moment probably felt odd to you, and I wish to apologize for not noticing what you were going through, but please do not think less of yourself for it. Forgive me for my ignorance. As I said before, my feelings for you are real,” he said with a careful, emotive tone. 

 

Brienne was unsure about how to answer. He kept staring at her like if he hadn't seen her in ages. She still struggled to remember her last days, and it troubled her deeply. Even more so she was concerned about what she remembered they had done on her last night, her memories were too clear. What they had done was improper and unthinkable. Never in her life would she have believed herself to be capable of such flaring emotions. The thought of dying and the urge to feel loved had moved her, yet she knew something else had also compelled her to approach Jaime in such fashion. At the same time her wishes couldn't be completely erased from the equation, she had wanted him. In a strange way, her change had not only left her humanity behind but had also made her realize the strength of her own feelings, especially those for Jaime. Not only was she more sensitive to her surroundings, but to the emotions she could perceive were expressed by him. He was experiencing such honest happiness, only observing her, that it made her warm inside. It made her forget conventions. She felt she could cry from simply knowing that someone like her could provoke someone like Jaime to look with such devotion. She kissed him lightly, chastely and briefly, and he lifted one hand to caress her face, looking on her with pure devotion. Then he kissed her, again and before she knew it, they had melted into each other, forgetting time. 

 

Later, as they lay naked and observing each other, she whispered to him, “I do hope we have not been heard.” 

 

“With a pillow attacking my mouth and another almost being swallowed by you, I doubt it,” Jaime jested.

 

She hit him in one arm. He only laughed at her.

 

“Plus, the wind is blowing quite strongly outside. They may think that the noise done by this bed is nothing but a couple of ghosts. My door is barred, and so is yours, there is no way for them to know how I ended up here,” added Jaime, caressing her neck.

 

“You should allow yourself more, now that you can,” he said, with a clear meaning.

 

“I don't know, it feels foreign.”

 

“Of course it feels foreign, you have never tried before, you will get used to it. You enjoyed it that time, didn't you?”

 

“I did, but... doesn't it hurt you?” Asked Brienne.

 

“No, it feels much better than... this,” He said, as he placed his fingers in her juncture.

 

She gasped and moaned as his experienced fingers played with her until she reached climax again, covering her mouth with the pillow. She turned her head and moaned into it. Jaime moved her head and put his neck next to her mouth, she gasped and recoiled. 

 

“I won’t do it again, not now,” she said, though it wasn't without effort. She had felt the urge to pierce and suck him again, but she was more confident now. Somehow she felt more in control of herself.

 

Jaime looked slightly annoyed but conceded, “As you wish, my lady, but you are the one missing it.” He raised an eyebrow maliciously.

 

“The only thing we are missing is time, we should depart tomorrow. I already wrote to my father, we should go back to Tarth.”

 

“Why?” He sighed, confused.

 

“I can't disappear, as your brother suggested. I need time to arrange something and I worry about my father,” she would have told him about Lord Stark, but his accusations still hurt her. She would tell Jaime another day.

 

“Why is that?”

 

“You said it yourself, these are hard times. I should be near my father.” She couldn't tell why, she just knew that now that she saw that Lady Sansa was safe, she had to know if her father was safe, and Lord Renly as well. For some reason, she knew that she had to protect them. Lady Sansa, her father and Renly. There was something calling inside her, forcing her to make sure she took care of them.

 

“But that is the problem, your father…he knows you very well. He will see that there is something strange about you.”

 

“Even then, I have to see him,” she demanded.

 

“Is there something you are not telling me, Brienne? First it was imperative that we arrived here, then you can't leave Winterfell soon enough. Is it...Renly?”

 

Brienne had the impulse to laugh, but Jaime was oozing anger. “Of course I want to protect Lord Renly, and my father, and the Starks, they are the only people that have ever been decent to me, and of course you too. But, Jaime, you don't need my protection.” 

 

“Maybe I do, maybe I need you more than Renly does. I know you enshrined him, cherished him above all others, and now you wish to go back to him,” he whined impatiently.

 

“Jaime, please, don't be childish. What is this? You know that I need to see my father.”

 

He sighed and she knew he was hurt, but she didn't understand why.

 

“Brienne have you ever been in love before, apart from Renly?”

 

This was a very uncomfortable question. She didn't like the direction it could take. “Why?”

 

“Just answer me, have you ever felt that you could marry someone else, besides Renly.” When Brienne didn't reply he continued, “I mean, before him, years before him.”

 

“No, I never met anyone that I wanted to wed before Renly.” This seemed like a safe subject, after all.

 

“So you’ve never been betrothed before?”

 

She closed her eyes. Of course it was not a safe subject. Anger rose inside her and she just said. “I don't want to talk about this”

 

“Why? Don't you trust me?”

 

“It’s just,” she grunted and threw the pillow to the floor, “they were all terrible. I failed my father,” she eked out miserably, turning her back to him and fighting the tears in her eyes.

 

He wrapped his arms around her, “I'm sorry for insisting, I was just curious.”

 

“You couldn't have known. All three of them were...the first laughed the moment he saw me and left the same day. The second threw a rose at my face and said that was all I would get from him. The third said I was expected to behave like a lady, lest he would chastise me. I told him I wouldn't take chastisement from someone who couldn't defeat me. We fought. I won, but it broke my betrothal.” She wept quietly as she spoke. 

 

Jaime held her and caressed her hair. He grabbed a napkin and cleaned her face, trying to avoid the red tears to reaching the bed. 

 

“I failed my father so many times. I failed him, I have to go back to see that he is safe.”

 

“Why, are you afraid something could happen to him?”

 

Brienne tried, but she couldn't answer with total certainty. What was it that moved her? It was almost as if an invisible wall was preventing her from reaching her own memories. She couldn't know, she couldn't tell what compelled her with such strength. It was mostly a feeling. As if a part of her was being pulled towards her father, as if she needed urgently to be sure of his safety. It was as if it was her greatest duty to protect Lord Renly, her Father, Lady Lyanna, and Lady Sansa.

 

“I have to see for myself that they are safe. I have seen that Lady Lyanna and Lady Sansa are well, now I have to protect Lord Renly and my father,” she declared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, you came this far, thank you! Now, if you have any ideas or theories, care to share them with me? Thanks!


	20. A jealous lion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne and Jaime are back in Tarth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter one but hopefully interesting nevertheless. As always, many thanks H3L for being such a wonderful beta n_n

As they approached Tarth, Jaime felt it had been years since he had been there last. He was sure Brienne probably felt something similar. The change she had went through had been so drastic, it was probably impossible to hide. Hats, scarfs and jackets could only shelter so much. If anyone stared at her eyes for long enough, they would see she was not the same girl that had left for the North only a couple weeks ago.

 

Jaime was restless, all the ideas he had thrown at Brienne, she had rejected. Was she planning on telling her father the truth? It was madness. Lord Selwyn would never believe her. It didn't help that she had wanted so much to come back to Tarth but seemingly had no reason. It didn't help that she seemed so interested in protecting Renly. It was probably the most ridiculous of feelings, but Jaime was jealous. Very much so. Lord Renly was clearly not interested in Brienne. Actually he was clearly not interested in _women_. That was true. But even then, Renly still occupied a privileged position on Brienne's heart and that was a problem, at least a problem for Jaime.

 

He was glad though that, slowly at least, some of her memories seemed to be coming back. On their way she had told them that she had been sent a letter by someone who, it mentioned, had captured Sansa. She just couldn't remember who. Jaime didn't need to be told who, it had been Cersei. He had seen her there. For some reason the memory of her last moments before the transition were blocked too, she couldn't remember Cersei's involvement in the matter. In fact, he noticed, it was a bad idea to mention Cersei at all. Brienne seemed to revert to her strange, ghoul-like, state after she heard his sister’s name and he couldn't understand why it was happening. Sure, his memories after he was transformed had come back to him slowly as well, but had he become a soulless monster as well? For that period of three days that had been lost to him? Jaime wondered who he had killed in his first days, if he had killed an innocent person…perhaps several. Considering he had probably been under the care of that monstrous lady, he might as well have. At the same time, he considered never telling her what had happened in those three damned nights she was more monster than human. In her case, he made sure all innocents were spared, why torture her with that story? 

 

It was an odd situation. He recalled his last moments, him and Cersei. All the blood, the smell of burned flesh...Barristan Selmy and Prince Rhaegar staring down at him with pity in their eyes. But then he realized there was part of it that was somehow blurry. He didn't remember Aegon II, but he knew from what he was called later – _Kingslayer, Oathbreaker –_ after he came back, that he had killed Aegon II. Why would Rhaegar look sadly at him if Jaime had just murdered Rhaegar 's father? He never had a chance to ask. At the same time Cersei and he were being cared for by the Dragon Lady the war had started. Five months later the Targaryens had fallen. Though some of the royal children survived, they were nothing but the puppets of other nobles that were far more able in the courtly games. He had been too worried about Cersei's rage to care about anything else. It was only after she had calmed down that he managed to start wondering if his brother Tyrion was still alive. He was still glad he had found him in time. Though where had his brother gone during the time he disappeared? He understood now why had Tyrion forgotten his first days, since obviously Brienne had no memory of the nights she was almost a ghoul and Jaime had only now started to consider he lacked those memories as well. 

 

Yet the details about his own _death_ were blurry as well, not just of his first steps in new life. He was sure no living human knew for certain what had happened and no witnesses of the deed itself had survived by the time he started wondering. It was said that the King had killed Cersei while the Kingsguard had killed Jaime. The reasons and the way it happened were unclear and each tale was wilder than the next. Most nobles were bewildered when they saw them both _alive_. He let Tyrion handle those who were convinced of their deaths, he couldn't tell how but it seemed Tyrion's skills in manipulation were far greater than those of Cersei or himself. Regardless, all kept calling Jaime the Kingslayer. He was confused at first, but in time learned to mock anyone who threw the derogatory term his way. Apparently Tyrion too had a hand on his demotion from the Kingsguard, and in all other many arrangements regarding Casterly Rock. Both siblings were far more ambitious than Jaime had ever been.

 

A loud clank broke him out of his thoughts. A nervous maid was gathering the bread and the plate she had just let fall to the floor by accident. The maids in the house seemed to be very excited. There was an air of unrest in the house, as well as in the streets. Rumors were circulating about the King's health. It seemed it had taken a turn for the worst. People seemed to be convinced that soon they were going to lose their king. A maid who had gone to visit her family had written that she wouldn't return, she was afraid to walk in the streets. 

 

Jaime was glad that they were too nervous to notice Brienne. After sending a letter she just went to her room and announced that she was going to rest and none of them cared to ask her if she needed something. He went to her room, entering through the window again, and this time she didn't show any surprise. They left the room together and hunted near the sea. She was slowly getting used to the idea of having to hunt. If she didn't she would put her loved ones in jeopardy. So she listened to Jaime's advice on how to identify suitable prey. It still disgusted her, and she sometimes hunted less than what she really needed, but Jaime was patient with her. Sometimes he insisted she take some of what he had hunted. “This one is already dead,” he would say, and she would occasionally accept. 

 

Envy and jealousy invaded Jaime once more when Brienne insisted on observing whether Lord Renly was well. At the beginning she was unsure about spying on others, but her need to see for herself that he was well ended up being stronger than her uncertainty regarding how proper the idea was. Luckily for him Brienne was content with little, seeing that he was surrounded by loyal servants and was happily discussing some banalities with Margaery was good enough for her. 

 

There was just one problem. Was it sorrow he saw in Brienne's eyes when she looked at Margaery? Jealousy? Resentment? 

 

It seemed she didn't trust the girl.

 

“I believe I could be of better assistance in alleviating whatever is bothering you if you would just tell me,” Jaime said, finally, when they were on their way back.

 

Brienne looked at him, confused, and then after a minute or so replied. “I'm just wondering, why did they mention Lady Sansa's name? I would have sworn there was something at least partially... not well-intentioned about the tone the lady used when referring to the Lady Sansa. Is it something related to the Starks? What is the association?”

 

 _Oh that!_ Jaime thought, calming somewhat. “They might want to use Sansa to convince the Starks in supporting them. It seemed to me that Lady Sansa yearned for life in court, and if Margaery were to invite her and try and win her friendship, Margaery might manage to use her as a pawn.”

 

“But that would be dishonorable!” Brienne cried in outrage.

 

“My lady, I do not think that Lady Margaery would mind much, she's is not as kind as she wants to appear.” 

 

“I will write to Lady Sansa,” proposed Brienne.

 

“And say what? ‘ _My dear Lady Sansa, as I was hanging from the highest tower on the Baratheon residency - to which I climbed with my own hands but make no matter on the issue - I managed to overhear Lady Margaery and her husband discussing some despicable plans they have for you.’_ Would that help, do you think? Besides, you aren't her mother. She has a mother and an aunt that can protect her from these kinds of battles, the courtly battles of ladies,” insisted Jaime.

 

Upset, Brienne looked at him and sucked her lower lip, absorbed in thoughts and still undecided. Jaime dreaded anytime she seemed to be consumed by her considerations. It was almost physically painful to wait for her to say something, to wait for her to acknowledge in any way that he was there. A simple look, or the smallest nod, or even if she rolled her eyes was enough for him. He only didn't want her to be absorbed completely in her own self. Finally she nodded and agreed with him, there was no way of reporting her findings to the Starks without raising suspicion. And the last they needed now was to raise more suspicion. 

 

Finally they returned to her room. It was clear that Brienne was worried about her father. It seemed her mind was completely focused on protecting those she said had been decent to her. Once one of those was checked off the list, immediately she focused on the next one. Her fears regarding her father were only fed as they had walked during the night. She had heard the same rumors Jaime had, she couldn't avoid it now. Rumors about Stannis’ supporters wanting to attack Renly's ran rampant, unrest and resentment in the citizens, among other things. All was clear to her, all the new sounds, slowly she seemed to get used to the exaggerated amount of information she now needed to process but sometimes it seemed to be too much for her. 

 

“This is a curse, in more than one way,” she insisted as she walked around in her room.

 

“It does help to be better informed,” Jaime tried his best to look the positive side of things, Brienne was too stern all the time.

 

“Yes, but some of the things they discuss in this house, I wish I didn't know about them,” she said, annoyed. The tone she used hinted him where her exasperation came from. It was a fantastic opportunity, to lighten their mood and he couldn't resist the temptation to take it.

 

“My lady, are their bed-stories making you uncomfortable? How come? You have some of your own,” he said smiling. Brienne's stare clearly stated that she wasn't amused.

 

“Don't mention it that loud,” she whispered, “it would mortify my father.”

 

“Brienne, you can't expect that those rules apply to you anymore. You have no longer a relationship with them.”

 

She stopped walking and looked at him, “I am still my father's daughter. He still expects things from me.”

 

“My lady, even if you got married to a human, which as the situation has changed you will not, under any circumstances... you would no longer able to produce an heir,” Jaime replied unceremoniously. It had been so obvious to him, but apparently not to her.

 

Her eyes widened and she abruptly avoided his stare. It seemed that she hadn't considered that. Jaime wanted to slap himself for his lack of sensitivity.

 

“Brienne, forgive me, I should have been kinder, it was not the way.”

 

She shook her head and said in a calm voice, still staring at the curtains. “I would have made a terrible mother, it is a relief,” she mused.

 

“My lady, you don't know that,” he said, shaking his head.

 

“I think I do. It was just something that was always an imposition, an obligation, what was expected of me.” She walked to the bed and sat there. “It is a relief, to be finally free from it.” 

 

“Are you sure that you accept this? Are you sure that you understand it?” He asked, still doubtful, yet he detected no lies in the way she spoke.

 

“I do... I feel sorry for my father, but I always wanted to be a knight, not a lady. I never wanted to compromise my freedom and he was unlucky enough to have been left only with me, the freakish one. Had my brother survived... but no, I am the one he's stuck with.” Brienne seemed to be again absorbed in herself. She didn't seem to be talking to Jaime, and again he felt slightly worried, remembering those days when he had feared Brienne was to remain soulless. He also wanted to tell her how wrong she was. She wasn't the worst of her father's children, she was probably the best. Brienne would say Jaime couldn't know, but he wanted to tell her she wasn't a curse. She shouldn't speak about herself like that. 

 

The fear dissipated as she stared at him and said, “Lady Lyanna said to me she envied me. That last day at Winterfell, she went to my room and said it,” then she smiled briefly and looked at her fingers. 

 

“She noticed that there was something different about me, but said it was probably what _love_ does to people.” Brienne's fingers entangled and seemed tense, as if the word _love_ was too heavy for her to handle. “She hugged me. Sansa had hugged me as well. After our practice, even little Arya hugged me. Never have I received that much affection from women as in those last two days there. The Queen said she knew winter was coming and a war with it.” Jaime flinched, remembering the words of the Dragon Lady. “I said that I pledge my sword to her, that I was hers if she needed me. She touched my shoulder and said that she hoped it was not going to be necessary, but that she accepted it. She also caressed my hair, I was glad she was wearing gloves. She could have noticed how cold I was. Then she said she envied me... Me? Envied by the Queen?” She laughed, faintly.

 

“Did she explain why she said that?” Jaime asked as he hugged her

 

“Because I did as I pleased, was encouraged to do so.” Then she timidly looked at him, “because of you. She said that you respect me, that you know me, you wouldn't force me into a role I didn't want or belong to. Because what we have is reciprocated,” and she kissed him, just a light kiss.

 

The kiss soon became fierce, warm and hungry. Though Brienne seemed to be more in control, she could still make a simple kiss escalate into a passionate encounter every time they were alone. This time, he made sure to throw away the pillows before she reached her climax, and forced his neck to her mouth when she did. She seemed to be less reluctant to disagree with his offer this time. She kissed his neck and her fangs cut through his skin and she sucked. Jaime was delirious, floating in a sea of pleasure. He couldn't believe Brienne had the strength to ever resist this. He would have rather succumb to it. He held her with renewed strength and then kissed her neck before piercing it with his fangs. Brienne screamed with such intensity it was probably heard in the streets. She held him tighter, almost piercing his back with her nails. At that moment, she forgot how to care. Both were too much overwhelmed by their own pleasure to do so.

 

Sometime later they lay next to each other. Brienne seemed to have a hard time recovering from the new emotions. Several times she tried to talk but she only managed to open and close her mouth.

 

“I hope that means you will stop resisting me,” he said, not maliciously.

 

“I am still unsure, Jaime, it is quite possible we were heard this time,” she said, concerned.

 

“Ghosts, Brienne, only ghosts,” Jaime jested, moving his hands, imitating the apparent ghosts that he was talking about.

 

“Lady Roelle will not believe that,” Brienne insisted worriedly.

 

“If you look at Lady Roelle in the right way, she will stop caring how much we moan together,” he couldn't help his good mood.

 

“Jaime... you promised,” there was a slight hint of menace in Brienne's voice.

 

“I know my lady. I won't scare your very annoying maids... I already have,” he confessed.

 

“Jaime!” Brienne harshly whispered, her tone full of indignation. He couldn't be happier to be the one causing it. He wished to cause many more.

 

“It was before you made me promise, and in any case, I was only trying to protect you,” he said, winking at her.

 

“You are hopeless,” she replied, shaking her head.

 

The following morning her father arrived. He had made sure that her room was locked before leaving. He feared for her, what if that obnoxious Lady Roelle went to her room and opened the curtains again? 

 

Luck seemed to be on their side. The Evenstar seemed to be too preoccupied by other concerns. Winter was coming and the days grew shorter so that by the time he returned to Tarth, Brienne and Jaime were ready to see him. Jaime had trained Brienne in how to pretend to eat, while keeping the food in a bottle in her pockets. If one is fast enough, humans cannot notice. Jaime sometimes preferred to just avoid the pretenses and not eat. It was a shame to waste food. Brienne agreed. She still felt sorry for having to lie, and for wasting food she could have given the orphans, so she pretended to eat only a little. Lord Selwyn seemed to be surprised by the change in his daughter, but was at the same time so pleased with her presence he seemed to overcome his surprise quite soon. Jaime knew why it was. Unconsciously, Brienne was making him accept her despite her unearthly appearance. Soon she would learn how to control that, but for now Jaime was content with letting her explore this on her own. Nevertheless he was surprised at how fast she managed to do it. He would have sworn it had taken him longer to achieve such effectiveness. According to her recounts, it seemed she had already managed to convince Lady Sansa and Lady Lyanna as well.

 

Despite his happiness at seeing her alive and well, he was obviously worried about the King and the future of Westeros. It seemed that the council had failed at reaching any decision after all that time. The Evenstar avoided the subject that was worrying him, trying probably to avoid concerning his daughter. Instead, he seemed to be interested in trying to indicate that Brienne should start considering taking on more duties as the heir of Tarth. The implication was clear and Jaime was about to comment on his contribution to that matter when a maid arrived with a letter for Lord Selwyn. The moment he saw the seal Lord Selwyn frowned and stopped paying any attention to Jaime or Brienne. He went to the library to read it. Both could perceive his nervousness and concern and could hear how he gasped once he read the letter. 

 

Without any need to exchange words, both left the dining room to reach the library. Brienne opened the door and approached her father.

 

“What has you so distressed, father?” Brienne inquired as she went to him and grabbed his hands. Luckily, she had started using gloves constantly.

 

It was obvious to Jaime before he read it, before the words formed in the Evenstar's mouth even. 

 

“War my dear daughter, war,” said Lord Selwyn and he showed the letter to her. 

 

The King was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There, he died. And now you know why did Sansa and the other reacted the way they did with Brienne. What are your ideas about this? Thanks for reading!


	21. The one she failed to protect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new King is finally chosen. A maid marries. There's a celebration but it ends in tragedy.

Deserted streets, windows being shut and barred, and whispers behind doors, was all she found that night when they went out. However strong her need was, she could still not accept it completely. The life she once had, it still haunted her. Her wish to grab her sword and leave for training, she had to bury that wish. Life is not immutable, even if she had remained as before, alive. It would probably not be possible to continue with the life she always had. The air in the streets, the fear that could be felt, smelled, almost as a mist hovering over the city, over the country, told her of a time of change. It told of uncertainty. Most citizens only wanted to continue a routine. But others preyed on situations such as this. The King had died. Lord Renly had declared himself his successor, with the support of many strong houses such as the Tyrells. Lord Stannis should be the next King but he couldn't find enough support. The Starks remained as silent as the Lannisters and if that was not enough, there were rumors of invaders of the South in Dorne. 

 

The calm was unnerving. It felt as if in a moment or the other it would end in a thunderous cry of swords clashing against each other. War. Seconds before her father had said it she felt the word forming in his mouth, leaving it and turning into a reality. Her father had pledged his sword to Lord Renly but she had already sworn her loyalty to Lady Lyanna Stark. Her only hope was that in a way or another the Starks would end up accepting the same person her father would. 

 

In part, as she had seen Lady Sansa and Lady Arya at Lord Renly's wedding, she wanted to hope there was a chance the Starks would choose to support him. Yet she couldn't forget the conversation she had overheard in Winterfell. Lord Stark didn't consider Lord Renly fitted to rule. Her father also had his doubts about Lord Stark's position on the matter. Lord Stark had arrived with the Queen to the court, only a day after Brienne had returned to her own home, and while she had remained quiet and avoided the council meetings altogether, her brother had been very vocal regarding his support to Lord Stannis. Lord Stark was convinced Stannis should be the one ascending to the throne, as he was the older brother. Yet many nobles disliked Stannis. They said he was cursed, that his daughter was a monster. Many commented that the reason he was always so covered from head to toe was because he was becoming as sick as she was. It would be madness to choose a sick man to replace a dead one. 

 

The days rolled by in that strange and deceiving quietness. The ports were heavily guarded, and soldiers roamed around the city, waiting for an attack. Only strange rumors reached her. Brienne tried to avoid them but it was impossible to not hear them. She was sure most of them must be repulsive lies, for Lady Sansa would never do such a thing. With a strange feeling, she remembered the conversation Jaime and herself overheard, of Lord Renly speaking to his lady wife about Sansa Stark. What had it meant? She hoped it had nothing to do with the pestilent rumors she was hearing. Renly didn't need to make much of an effort, use unfair tactics. He wouldn't do that, would he? Brienne hoped he wouldn't. On the matter of the next ruler, most houses had given their support to Renly anyway. Even then, some few people still mistrusted him. One night a group of Stannis’ supporters began disturbing others in a bar packed with supporters of the younger brother, and the night ended in a blood bath. After that, even more soldiers were seen in the streets. Finally the Starks seemed to have reached a decision.

 

Her father came that night and spoke to her. A couple of days ago it seemed that Lord Stark was about to clarify his support to Lord Stannis, when he received a letter from the Tyrells. After receiving it he stormed from the room in pure rage. Lady Olenna Tyrell informed him of her _surprise_ at finding out that Loras Tyrell had eloped with Lady Sansa Stark. She asked him for help in finding them and bringing them back to reason. Lady Olenna had asked to proceed with the utmost secrecy so, of course, the entire realm knew of it. The terrible rumors Brienne had heard were true. They were soon found on an island, near the Vale, one of the Three Sisters. To rectify their actions, they were immediately wed. According to some accounts Lady Sansa was radiant with happiness. Despite medical examination confirming that she was indeed still a maid, they proceeded anyway. Brienne was devastated. She wished she had stayed longer with the sweet girl. She wished she could protect her from the evil tongues of Westeros. 

 

Lord Loras Tyrell had arrived at the Vale on the same day that Sansa had, and it seemed they were quite taken with each other. Later, when Brienne discussed this with Jaime, he laughed and assured her it could be possible for Lady Sansa to be enamored with him, but never the other way around. Brienne couldn't understand what made that so impossible. In any case, they had been seen together more than once and it seemed that at some point he had asked her to marry him. Lady Sansa had accepted without her parents’ consent. For a few days she went to Winterfell but soon after she returned to the Vale and they had eloped. 

 

This unexpected union changed everything. Now the Starks and the Tyrells were family, Lord Stark couldn't oppose his own family and put the life of his girl in danger. Lord Renly was married to Lady Margaery Tyrell, after all. Therefore he now supported Lord Renly. It seemed this had required a lot of discussion with his wife, Lady Catelyn, because he seemed to doubt if this was the right choice even then. He had accepted it in the end. Once more, Brienne remembered Lord Renly and Lady Margaery discussing Lady Sansa, and hoped that Lady Sansa and Loras Tyrell's union was indeed one born out of love.

 

The minute he found out about it, Lord Stannis had called his banners and it seemed he was pretending to go to war with his brother, despite almost not having a chance of winning such a war. Lord Renly was going to be crowned in four days. Despite the little support Lord Stannis received, even more soldiers were appointed to patrol the ports and remain alert in case of an attack. 

 

The Queen seemed to remain quiet about any matter regarding the crown. After the funeral, she hadn't been seen by any other than some members of the council. As soon as the matter of the crown was settled, she left for Winterfell. Not all her maids had followed her, and only a small group of soldiers. She had left the court in her masculine clothes, all appearances discarded. It no longer mattered. Her father told Brienne with a sad face that it even seemed that she was happy as she left riding. He told her to dismiss any ill comments. He knew that Lady Stark couldn't possibly find joy in the death of her husband. She was only rejoicing in the fact that she was finally free from life in court. He had a soft spot in his heart for the Queen. He kept comparing her with Brienne.

 

The celebration on the night before the coronation came sooner than what Brienne would have expected. There seemed to be no escaping celebrations since she had met Jaime. She just wished the excess would eventually stop. A package was in her bedroom and, spying it, she proceeded to open the cursed thing and forced herself to wear the annoying garment that her father had bought for her. To her surprise, it was a crimson dress. She let it fall and she herself fell with it, yet while the dress cascaded gracefully to the floor, Brienne fell like a stone with a loud thud. For some unfathomable reason it made her head ache and annoyed her more than other dresses she had seen. Even the stupid dress could be more feminine than she. It wasn't even alive. Trying to calm herself and confused at the irrationality of her anger towards a piece of fabric, she finally stood up and began dressing. However the rage kept pulsating through her until it erupted and she tore the dress to shreds. 

 

Once she recovered she realized what she had done and, though she was appalled, it was too late to fix it. It was beyond repair. So she removed from herself whatever was left from it, then diligently went to her wardrobe room and hid the remains of the offending dress and took another. It was a pink dress that made her flinch, but that she hadn't worn before. When she finished putting it on, she realized the cut was too low, exposed too much skin. Exasperated, she was about to choose another dress when Jaime entered the room and she turned to see him, astonished. He remained silent, observing her. He had never entered her changing room before. As always, he was looking gorgeous and alluring in his golden and red embroidery. As the silence stretched, she feared that at any time he was going to burst out laughing at how ridiculous she looked. Then she noticed how his eyes were fixed on her scarce breast, and out of impatience she grabbed a silken scarf and covered herself with it.

 

“You know that piece of garment is for the morning, my lady,” he said charmingly, raising an eyebrow.

 

“It matters not, for I will use another dress. Now if you could be so good, leave. I need to search for a less scandalous costume,” she said, and showed him the door, as if he hadn't already been through it.

 

“That would be unnecessary, you will attend the lovely celebration in this garment. It's too late to change and Lord Selwyn awaits us outside” 

 

Brienne tried to protest but Jaime insisted that her father was already impatient, before he’d come there to look for her. Reluctantly, she gave in.

 

The celebration was so pompous it made Brienne gag. Never had the ladies wore more complex and useless dresses, never was the food as artistically decorated as the castle itself, and never had she seen so much waste in wine, beer and food. Though Lady Margaery was wearing a dress even richer than the one she wore at her wedding, she could not surpass the delicacy and fancy of Lord Renly's embroidery, jewelry and shoes. Brienne found herself curiously annoyed at the careless display of monetary wealth, and even more as her father told her it had all been planned by Lord Renly without almost no intervention from his wife. 

 

Strangely she realized that she found his whims not as endearing as before, and that she quite disliked his appreciation for extravagance and opulence. Yet that was not the most peculiar situation she found herself in. Lords and ladies kept whispering negative comments whenever they cared to lay eyes on her, walking arm in arm, with Lord Jaime Lannister. Out of need, she kept tugging her companion to avoid any massacre that night. That hadn't changed. What was remarkable, were the behavior of old, and some young, lords as they neared her. As they reached enough distance that they might be able to touch her with an extended arm, their glances slowly turned from despising to lecherous. Brienne had never before been the object of such attention, and to her dismay all the sounds of their body fluids were clear to her. It took little effort to identify the reason why their blood was rushing towards their breeches and why the heat in them increased. What puzzled her was the pungent smell that kept oozing from them. Jaime was seething with rage, and she needed to restrain him, though she wanted to hurt them herself. Some seemed to be ashamed of their unfortunate reaction, while some savored it. If two who had the latter reaction approached her, they would whisper to each other bold comments on the obscene things they wished to do with her in bed. It appalled her. She tried to cover herself more with the scarf and held Jaime closer. Her efforts were in vain. Despite her strength, she felt like a lamb in the middle of a pack of wolves. 

 

Finally it was their turn to speak with Lord Renly. She hadn't in such a long time, and though in other times she would have been nervous about it, now she only wanted to congratulate him and leave immediately. 

 

“My lady, it has been such a long time,” said the Lord in such grace and merriment one would have thought he was receiving dear friends. It struck Brienne as false and she observed him with narrowing eyes. She couldn't forget what she had heard the other night when she had spied Lord Renly with Jaime, nor could she forget what she had heard this lord say earlier...

 

“Thank you your Grace, we are much honored by your kindness,” she replied, unable to smile, holding her ire.

 

“Indeed we are, much honored and pleased,” said Jaime in his charming voice. He was a master of deceit.

 

Lady Margaery was smiling brightly at him. “It is we who are honored by your company. We are thankful for your friendship and loyalty to us. Don't you say, dear?” Asked the lovely lady, blinking and looking briefly at her husband. Then those delicate doe eyes were directed at her, and the lady continued with a hint of surprise. “Pray, the north suited you fantastically Lady Brienne! I have never seen you so radiant.” 

 

“It is true, now that I can appreciate you closely. Your complexion is healthier and I would even say some improvement seems to have taken place,” admitted Lord Renly, observing her briefly. Though Brienne feared he would react strangely as well, to her relief he didn't, and soon he looked back at Jaime, smiling at him dazzlingly. 

 

“You must tell us of your adventures there, we heard some. You saved the Lord Tallhart from some bandits, I heard, it was a most curious case. Your bravery is well known my lady, as well as yours my Lord. I am almost convinced I should assign you, my lady, to be a member of my Queensguard,” said Lady Margaery sweetly, but for some reason it twisted Brienne's entrails. She was confused about how to respond when the doe-eyed lady laughed graciously and said, “do not worry, I wouldn't be so cruel. Besides, I am sure I would gain a powerful enemy if I were to take you for me,” she smiled, looking at Jaime.

 

“I am much grateful, your grace” Jaime replied, still smiling but Brienne noticed it was forced. “It would indeed affront me greatly to lose my lady.” All three of them laughed, fake laughs and only Brienne continued looking stern and feeling alarmed. “If your grace would excuse us, we would not rob you of time. There are many more who wish to congratulate you.” And with those words, Jaime set them free.

 

“Thanks again my dear fellows,” said Lord Renly, Lady Margaery nodded at them as they left.

 

Sighing in relief she walked decidedly towards the door. 

 

“Doesn't my lady wish to dance?” Jaime asked her, keeping up with her pace but still looking a bit comical in the process.

 

“Under no circumstance would I stay here a second longer, lest I lose any sense of propriety and smack someone's head towards a wall. Do you wish to stay? Be my guest, as I am leaving,” she whispered lividly as she released Jaime, and then exited the Baratheon residence. 

 

The falseness of that place was drowning her, so many were untrue. The deceptiveness of the nobles was familiar to her, but never had she known the depths of it. Now that she could hear them in such detail, she felt horrified. She had clearly heard as Lord Renly had made the nastiest comments to Margaery before receiving each lord, and how she had laughed, but then both said the completely opposite as the same lords were standing next to them. Even about her, he had been less than graceful. “Here comes the unfortunate daughter of Lord Tarth, looking less than ravishing in an attire that should have been forbidden, even when it was conventional,” he had said under his breath with pure contempt. “You can't deny, though, my dear, how extremely handsome and proper is the one who keeps her company, constantly, I have been told... be kind to them, it will be to our benefit. The Lord Lannister is the richest man in Westeros,” had said the shrewd girl, holding her laugh. 

 

Such divergent behavior in Lord Renly eroded her image of him. Had he always been so untrue? What if he had planned Sansa's marriage in order to ascend to the throne? No, she couldn't believe that. Her unnatural capacities threatened to obliterate the ideas she had of many lords and ladies, and she feared it would make a sour creature of her. Men, whom she had thought respectable, had said the worst things about others and had made the most salacious comments about some ladies, including her. At the same time, ladies she thought were honorable had also behaved in dishonest manner. They spread false rumors about each other and were then so sweet when in front of the one they had just disrespected so viciously. She had known only the surface of these nobles, now she knew more and it was overwhelming.

 

Jaime followed her and not long after him, her father was behind them. Alarmed and contrite over Brienne's rudeness, he told her she should stay longer, that it was expected of her as the heiress of Tarth. Lord Selwyn insisted that she could rest the following day after the coronation. With a pang of guilt she remembered that the coronation was due in the morning. Assisting was out of the question. It would kill her in an spectacle that would only bring unwanted attention for her father. Brienne excused herself from assisting to the crowning ceremony, inventing that she needed to attend to some matter related to the orphans. She knew it was a pathetic excuse and that her father wouldn't possibly let her get away with it, but she hoped very strongly he would. As if he had decided to heed her wishes, he accepted her excuse and didn't ask anything else from her. 

She looked worriedly as her father left, forgetting his concerns and entering the celebration again. Jaime and she left, but she was too appalled by her father's strange reaction. Once she was back in her room, she started to analyze the strange behavior of the men at the celebration, of her father, of the maids, of all of them. Today had been the first time in many days that someone had actually commented on her aspect, but even then it had been as if Lady Margaery didn't consider it anything too extraordinary. And suddenly it struck her. It was too odd that nobody seemed to ask her about her evident change, when in her presence they simply accepted her every time. Even as a human she hadn't been accepted so easily. Why were they so obedient to her desires? Even when she didn't even ask for it out loud, it was just too strange. 

 

“Jaime, it concerns me greatly. Why is my disguise, or the complete lack thereof, not more conspicuous? Not more questioned? Why is there no difficulty to my acceptance in a society that knew me and now finds me changed? Why are they not troubled by it? Why does no one suspect?” She blurted everything out the minute she stormed into Jaime's room and closed the door behind her. It was just Brienne's luck that at that moment he was enjoying a bath. He looked at her seductively, and with a gesture invited her to join him in the bath.

 

Sighting she went to the bed and sat there, “I am being serious, you need to tell me.”

 

“The more you command me, the more I like it,” he replied, placing his arms over the tube and placing his face over them, looking at her salaciously. 

 

Despite herself, she felt how her lips turn upwards before she could stop them. Shaking her head, she insisted, “Jaime, tell me”

 

Jaime rose from the bath and Brienne looked away “Still shy? Despite all?”

 

“Stop torturing me,” she insisted, not looking at him.

 

“I am not torturing you.” She heard him grab a towel and dry himself. She was sure he was drying himself in a particularly slow manner, so that she could appreciate with as much time as possible how the towel was caressing his body. Its slow pace arousing her. “If I wanted to torture you, I think I would try something different,” and then he was on top of her, holding her arms to the side with his hands, her back to the bed. 

 

“Jaime, what are you doing?” But he didn't press her with his body. He just hovered on top of her. Only seconds later he started moving his head towards her neck and smelled her, then caressed her neck very lightly with his nose. She thought he was going to kiss her there but his lips were inches from her skin when he stopped, barely touching her. She was shivering already when he finally kissed her, lightly. A gasp escaped her lips. Slowly he repeated the same process with the other side of her neck and then trailed down, giving soft kisses to her breast, her navel, her hips and then her juncture. Despite being clothed she found the experience to be too arousing, she had to bit her lips to avoid gasping and moaning loudly. Finally he seemed to decide to stop torturing her and released her hands. With one of his hands he reached beneath her breeches for her juncture and fingered her until she climaxed. It really didn't take much, she was already sopping wet before his fingers touched her. 

 

There was something strangely provocative about being fully clothed but still satisfied. After her the fog in her mind was dissipated, and she could think clearly again, she remembered the reason she had arrived in the first place. Jaime was about to kiss her but she pushed him to the bed as she sat there, staring down at him. 

 

“I asked you something, I want an answer. No more distractions.”

 

“Distractions? I wish you considered our times together more than mere distractions, my lady,” Jaime replied, feigning being hurt.

 

“Don't mock me,” she said, impatiently. _For him, everything is a jest._

 

“I am not, I like calling you _my lady_ ”

 

It was a curious feeling, to have an equal need to violently strangle him as a need to silent him with a strong, very unladylike kiss. 

 

“Fine, Brienne. I will tell you, so that you won't murder me,” he said, still laughing. Then he grew serious and finally confessed. “I am actually surprised by how fast you learned that particular skill, it took me longer than you to manage it. There are many details I haven't explained you. I didn't think it necessary. This is one of them... you see...” He seemed to search for the right words and then just said, “it is possible to force humans to accept us, despite their initial disquiet due to our appearances.”

 

“Do you mean to tell me…that I am manipulating my father and everyone else into forgetting that I am no longer human?” All her arousal died immediately. She was aghast.

 

“It seems you are doing it unconsciously,” he said, as if that made it better. It only made it worse. It meant that she was doomed to be a monster despite her efforts not to hurt others.

 

She rested her elbows on her legs and covered her face with her hands. What could she do to avoid hurting them? To avoid hurting her father?

 

“It causes no damage, Brienne,” Jaime said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

 

“How can you know?” She asked, staring at him, slightly annoyed. _He's lying._ Again there was that feeling, of perceiving someone else's lie. _This is a curse, I don't care what Jaime says. This is a curse._

 

“I know because I have been around longer than you, it doesn't hurt them. Only if you were to do it consciously and abusively could you hurt them.”

 

_Now, that's the truth, It can be damaging if used too much._

 

“But my father... when I told him that ridiculous lie about the orphans he just accepted it and left us. He even forgot to insist on us staying longer at the celebration. He is not like that, he normally would have insisted, would have argued. How can you tell me it doesn't affect them? It is not normal. What does this _thing_ mean? This _skill_? That from now on every person I meet will agree with what I say as long as I want them to? It's manipulation, and it's revolting.” She was shaking and on the verge of tears. Jaime placed a hand on her shoulders and massaged her back.

 

“With time you will learn to control it, but it seems that now it manifests itself involuntarily. If you wish to avoid affecting your father, then I suggest we leave. We should leave for Casterly Rock. There we would be alone and no one would bother us, nor would we affect anyone.”

 

Tossing her arms around him and pulling him closer, she allowed the thought some seconds before replying. “I won't leave my father, not until the coronation is over and the rumors of war are dissipated. You are free to leave if it pleases you.” 

 

She meant to say those things, to hug him, as a way of goodbye. However it only annoyed Jaime, who disentangled himself from her and pierced her eyes with his green ones.

 

“Fine, but you won't get rid of me. Do you hear me, stubborn woman?” He said, grabbing her face in his hands and then kissing her hard, almost in anger.

 

 

 

It was still odd for Brienne, to lay motionless during the mornings, waiting for the sun to set. As she started to feel it was time to rise, the sounds of the outside became clearer, as they normally did and she realized that something extreme had occurred during the morning. The house and the street were in such commotion it reminded her of ants who saw their nest destroyed. It was no feeling of superiority what moved Brienne to such a comparison, it was just a childhood memory. Once, at only 9 years old, she was visiting the orphanage with her father. In a moment of distraction she left for the garden. Near an old tree was a group of children, Brienne was curious and wanted to see what they were doing. As she neared them she heard them laugh. Even more curious than before, she finally reached them and saw the reason for their giggles. They were destroying an ant's nest with their feet. One of them held a lens and tried to burn some of them. Though the children laughed and jested, the scene made her stomach lurch. It wasn't fair. The insects could not defend themselves from such opponents. So she told them. The children turned to look at her and only after some minutes of staring her up and down, started to laugh again. They pointed their fingers at her and cackled uproariously. Brienne stood there confused, not sure of their merriment, but then they started saying that never have they seen such an ugly girl before, that she must be an abomination. Then she understood. Fortunately for her, already a year before Lady Roelle had told her she would find the truth in the mirror. Even then, their joy pierced Brienne, and had her father not come out at that instant and called her, she would have started to cry. The children had continued to laugh and then left, it seemed that at least they had decided to stop tormenting the ants. It gave her a small comfort. 

 

With the same desperation and anxiety that those laborious insects showed, people were moving inside and outside her house. It gave her a curious, ominous feeling. As soon as she was dressed she left her room and asked the first maid that she came across what the rush was about. The girl burst into tears and started mumbling unintelligibly, and with such desperation, that Brienne had to ask her to sit and gave her a glass of water. She sat next to her and patted her in the back. While she was trying to calm the poor girl, Jaime walked towards her with a dark semblance.

 

Taking Brienne's hands he kneeled in front of her and looked very worriedly at her.

 

“My condolences, my lady”

 

 _No!_ a scream was about to burst through her throat but she held it in place.

 

“What are you talking about Jaime?” _It can't be, he was in such good health. It can't be._ She remembered how he had held her when her brother had died, how he let her play with wooden swords and then practice with real ones. How he gave her so much freedom, how he accepted every disappointment she gave him. Her father couldn't be dead. She couldn't accept it. A black spiral was forming under her feet and she felt herself dragged by it and only Jaime's hands were saving her from being swallowed entirely. _It can't be true, he can't be dead_.

 

“I only just found out. Yesterday at some point, he went to the privy and never came back. Though they searched for him for hours, they didn't find him but this morning. It was a gruesome sight, they say.” Brienne was holding Jaime's hand with such strength he was soon going to break but he remained calm as he continued, “your father found him and-”

 

The sinking feeling vanished in an instant “Wait, so my father is well?”

 

“Yes he is well. Why would you think otherwise? Brienne haven't you heard the news?”

 

“No, but my father is well, you say?” She asked, smiling, and feeling how the tension in her body vanished as relief took its place. “Then all is well, my father is alive,” she repeated as if to make sure. The girl next to her only stared in disbelief and continued weeping.

 

“Brienne,” said Jaime doubtful, “someone did die yesterday.”

 

“But not my father,” she said, still feeling too relieved to believe her luck. It was as if someone had revived her father. She was too merry to understand why Jaime would be so concerned about her reaction to this particular murder. 

 

“Brienne, forgive me, but you must know. Lord Renly was the one murdered,” and the girl next to Brienne cried with renewed enthusiasm. 

 

The words were a slap on her face and she stopped smiling. Bright as lightning in an obscure night, the memory came to her. That dream. The face of the once she had failed so miserably in that dream the night after Jaime had bitten her. It was Renly's face... and now she had truly failed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading up to this point! And let me tell you that without H3L, who is a fantastic beta, this wouldn't have gone so far. So if you like it, if you have some comments, if something here works for you or it doesn't let me know! I'm interested. Thanks for the kudos and comments, for reading this and hope you come back for more.


	22. The infamous throne and its new regents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a new King. Brienne reacts to the loss of her first love. Jaime returns to the place that made him twice a Kingslayer. Unsettling news disturb a ceremony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year! And thanks for continue reading this. Sorry for the delay but I traveled so I couldn't update this sooner. As always, all praise and thanks to H3L amazing skills and patience.

Though he expected her to cry bitterly and immediately swear revenge, Brienne did nothing of the sort. She only stared at him, numb and immovable, for a couple long minutes and then asked calmly about the details. Carefully he told her that Lord Renly had been found tied to a tree not that far away from the castle, and that it seemed someone had removed his heart with extreme violence. There had been blood scattered at his feet and dripping from him. He had no doubt about the culprit but he wasn't so sure if sharing the truth with Brienne would help at this point. Brienne asked about her father, he was in the library so she went to him. Jaime followed her.

 

Her father was still in shock, but part of the relief she was still feeling to see him alive became evident as she hugged him. He must have understood her hug as one of sadness over their loss, because he started speaking to her about the event. Then he told her that they had an emergency meeting where the Lords and Ladies had discussed the topic of succession for hours and hours. Lord Stark seemed to be ready to insist on crowning Stannis, but there was enough evidence that pointed to Stannis being behind the murder. Lady Margaery, weeping sadly, presented proof of how her husband had received threats from Stannis. Lady Ollena also presented proof of a distant blood relationship between Tyrells and Targaryens. The machinations of court mystified most smallfolk and courtiers alike, that meant that when the decision was made there was no small amount of surprise as the realm woke to new monarchs. The coronation of King Loras and Queen Sansa was set to take place in three nights. Immediately after the celebration the commanders would need to ready themselves for war. Stannis had already taken Claw Island and The Whispers. An assortment of men had departed earlier to stop Stannis advances. Lord Selwyn commented on how strongly their King wished to direct the offensive, he was thirsty for war. Jaime knew better. What Loras Tyrell wanted was to revenge for the death of the one he loved. A flicker of repulsion and anger crossed Brienne's face at the mention of Stannis's name, but soon it was gone. 

 

Why would he attack there? The Evenstar was shocked himself. They had expected Stannis to attack from the South, from their island even, but he had done things very differently. 

 

Lord Stark had seemed appalled but had accepted the situation. Brienne asked about Lady Lyanna. It seemed the Lady was going to return to court, news had reached her on her way to Winterfell and she was returning under the pretext of assisting the ceremony, but he suspected it was in order to protect Sansa. Kings were all being put to an early grave lately. She had reasons enough to be concerned. Brienne talked very particularly about them leaving for the castle and see that the Lady Sansa was in good health, it seemed to be paramount for her to observe that the little lady was protected. Yet her tone was off. 

 

After an hour he realized that Brienne was actually in shock. Though she spoke in coherent words and straight to the point, her eyes were unfocused and she seemed to be shielding her emotions under a cover of determination. Decidedly, he grabbed her arm and pushed her to her room, closing the door behind them. He forced her to the bed and sat her there, she had struggled but as he fell to his knees in front of her she stop moving. 

 

Surprised, she let him speak. “Brienne, you loved him, you did. You don't have to lie to me. Talk to me, mourn him, stop hiding for fuck's sake,” he said to her.

 

Blinking and opening her mouth, she seemed to be too appalled by his rudeness to be able to speak. 

 

 _How irritating it is. How powerful and unwavering the loyalty and feelings that dead man causes in those who met him_ , thought Jaime. Loras Tyrell and of Brienne, both were shocked, angered and saddened by Lord Renly's death. _It will probably cause the people to lose their new King and it will cause me to lose Brienne, again..._

 

“You loved him, Brienne, whatever you might say now, you did. And now he’s died. Tell me, what do you feel? Tell it true” he demanded.

 

“Jaime, I don't know...” she said staring at her pillows.

 

He threw the damn thing to the other side of the room. She was surprised but at least she was now looking at him.

 

“Control yourself Jaime, there is no need for you to behave like that,” she commanded.

 

“That is our problem, my lady. I lack control while you exceed yourself in keeping it.” He held her head with his hands and approached her face. “Be honest with me, Brienne, your behavior is unnatural.”

 

Removing his hands from her she stood up “I thought that is what it should be, unnatural. It is exactly what we are, unnatural beings,” she spat in rage. 

 

Rage was good, it was an emotion. Since that day in the ruins Jaime had become wary of any residual effect it might have had on her. Whenever she was receding back to a state of numbness he felt leary and in desperate need to move her feelings to whatever direction they could take her. 

 

He stood up next to her and stared into her eyes. Measuring her he noticed it would not take her long to snap. _Fine_ , he thought, deciding for a drastic path.

 

“That silly little boy you loved so much, yet would have never loved you, he died Brienne. In a gruesome way too, his blood was splattered all over the garden he used to dance in like the elegant little flower he was,” he said to her in his most spiteful tone. She was trembling and her eyes were slowly becoming red. Still she said nothing. Extreme measures were required.

 

“Do you know why he couldn't love you back? It is not because you are ugly, no, even if you would have been the most beautiful woman on the face of the earth you wouldn't have ever be able to move him to love you. Do you know why?” She was burning in rage, it would take only a little more. “Cocks, Brienne. He liked cocks. He loved Loras Tyrell, the one who married your lovely Lady Sansa, whose legs will never get spread by him because her husband has no interest in her pink lady lips.” As he said those atrocities her eyes had grown wider and wider but it was the last part what finally moved her.

 

She pulled him by his hair and forced him to the wall, pushing her face menacing close to his. “Shut your mouth! How dear you speak of Lord Renly and Lady Sansa with such demeanor?”

 

He looked at her angered. “So that you admit what you truly feel, and show more spirits than a toe-headed plank.”

 

She looked at him and hit the wall next to his head with such force she broke it. Surprised, she observed the mess she had just made and then she looked at him again. Little by little the facade finally broke. Falling to her knees she started crying in desperation. He kneeled next to her and held her. 

 

“It is not your fault, Brienne,” for some bizarre reason, he had been about to say _Love_. Yet he chocked, swallowing the word before it escaped him. Besides he wasn't the kind of person to speak thus and he wasn't the kind of man to use such a word lightly. He was amazed at himself for that, but Brienne's commotion didn't give him time to reflect on such matters. 

 

It seemed she was going to break in two by the way she was crying and howling. He held her as best he could, letting her tears fall and taint his clothes. It made no matter, he had too many clothes anyway. What mattered was how inconsolable she seemed to be. It pained him to see her that sad, that lost…and over _that_ man. Despite how angry he was with himself for it, he felt jealous of the dead Renly Baratheon. 

 

Ridiculous! He was a man who never loved her, who could only love other men, who didn't consider how honorable she was. A man who hadn't even known her as well, and if that wasn't enough, he was dead. Why would he be jealous of a dead man, one who didn't even _want_ Brienne? 

 

Had he been alive, Jaime probably would have wanted to murder him.

 

“Lord Renly...” she whispered with such tenderness. “He was so kind... and I... I-” And she continued crying, “I failed...”

 

“You didn't, you couldn't have known. It wasn't predictable” 

 

The way it occurred, with the heart being torn and not found, all pointed to one direction, to one perpetrator. Jaime was torn between confessing the truth to Brienne and keeping it forever in silence. She was stronger now, yes, but not strong enough to defeat the Dragon Lady. Why would she attack Lord Renly? Jaime couldn't know. Perhaps he offended her somehow? Perhaps she had developed a taste for the hearts of handsome noblemen like him? Pompous men? Kings? It was a mystery, and in a way he preferred to remain ignorant of her complex plots. He had his hands full with Cersei and now with his broken Brienne.

 

“It wasn't, I should have... I swore a vow” She said, in a despairing voice.

 

“My lady, we all swore too many vows and on more than one occasion these vows are conflicting with others. No matter what one does, one forsakes one vow for another, it's too much.” 

 

Brienne disentangled herself from him and stared hard at him.

 

“Is your word of no value? Must you mock everything and everyone? You do not respect life, and now you do not even respect a sworn vow,” she told him, in wrath.

 

“Brienne, you are such an innocent. Had you lived enough you would have known that one can't always keep one's vow and people die, however hard you try to protect them.” He tried to caress her face. 

 

“Do not talk to me in such a condescending manner, please. I do not appreciate it.” She pushed his hand away from her face. 

 

Jaime simply observed her and shook his head. This wasn't working as he intended it. “But it's the truth, my lady. You are only 18 years of age, experience does account in matters of life issues. Brienne, you can't protect everyone you love, however hard you try sometimes. You lose the ones you love,” he said, and for a moment he remembered his mother's embrace.

 

Brienne seemed surprised by the sudden change in his voice and behavior. Jaime tried to compose himself. It wasn't the time to become sullen. He needed to pay attention to Brienne.

 

Unexpectedly, she caressed him on the cheek. He just let his face tilt towards her hand. She kept caressing him in silence, and he smiled. He wanted to try to move her to express her feelings, to then be able to comfort her, but now he was the one being comforted. 

 

“We should prepare to leave, to court,” she said softly.

 

“What do you mean?” He replied in confusion.

 

“I pledged my sword to Lady Lyanna, it is clear we should depart. Or that at least I should depart.” Brienne said, as if speaking to her own hand.

 

A sudden influx of anger filled him and he grabbed her hand in his. He wasn't going to accept being discarded like a useless dimwit. Now even less than ever, he couldn't help but become jealous, despite how absurd the whole thing was. He was dying to know how much Brienne loved Renly and why was she was always insisting on going everywhere alone? Why was it so easy for her to abandon him? “My lady, if you rely that much on vows, let me make this one for you. I won’t leave you and I pledge my sword to you. I didn't leave you in those ruins. I will not leave you now, so please accept me and let me come with you.”

 

“You can't pledge your sword to me, I belong to a much smaller house than yours,” she said in confusion and even with a small hint of amusement.

 

“It makes no matter, I can pledge my sword to whomever I bloody well please,” he replied, a smile betraying his seriousness. _Do smile, Brienne, you know you want to,_ he thought.

 

“You are hopeless,” she retorted after some minutes, finally grinning despite herself.

 

“Yet you knew that already, my lady” Another man might consider bedding a girl he loved as his greatest achievement. That wasn't the case for Jaime, his greatest triumph was making Brienne smile. 

 

“If that is the case, then we should both prepare,” Brienne commanded and tried to remove her hand from his grasp. Jaime wouldn't let her go.

 

She asked him with her eyes what it was that he wanted to say. And he wanted to say so many things-that they should marry, not for her father's sake but because they both wanted it and because he wanted her to want him. Yet he feared she would not want to marry, in the same way she didn't want children. And he couldn't face rejection from her, not now. So he would leave it for another time, when it was clearer that she would accept him. He wanted to tell her, to roar, so that the entire house could hear that even if she couldn't keep all her promises she was the most honorable knight he had ever known to have existed. He wanted to tell her that she had the stronger will than anyone he had ever met, that even in her stubbornness he found something endearing. There was so much he could have said.

 

What he decided on was much less flowery, “I'd better get ready, can't disappoint the court ladies.” And he kissed her hand. He enjoyed her rolling eyes and being dismissed from her room hastily after that. 

 

 

 

The coronation was going to take place in the Red Keep. After all these years, he was going again to see the infamous Iron throne. There were more guards than ever at the ceremony and so many nobles in their pompous dresses it was difficult to walk without bumping into one of those. Jaime noticed that despise the extravagance of the nobility it was slightly less grandiose than the previous ceremonies he had went to with Brienne. More than a decade had passed since the last time he had been inside that castle. That cursed place, the place where he should have died, and the place that made him twice a Kingslayer. It looked different. A conspicuous change in the pillars had taken place, so that the dragons had been substituted with flowers and plants. Far nicer to observe and less intimidating than what it used to be, but probably more misleading. The place stank of treachery and corruption, just as always.

 

It was sad, observing the little Queen all radiant and hopeful sitting next to her gallant husband who was the face of misery, bitterness and sadness, far more than his sister Margaery. Lady Margaery wouldn't let the little Queen alone for one second. She was far more attentive to her than the new King. Jaime could almost see the vine extending from the little Tyrell flower, growing to wrap its thorns around the gullible Sansa Stark. But then, as they were speaking, Lady Lyanna approached and took her niece's unoccupied arm while _politely_ joining the conversation. Jaime couldn't help but smile. Noblewomen fights were so subtle one could miss them if one wasn't paying enough attention. It was quite probably that Lady Sansa herself didn't see it at all. 

 

He heard from the conversation and whispering that both Lady Margaery and Lady Lyanna were part of the Council. Some were amused by this while some were suspicious of the idea, seeing that they might not particularly like each other. But Margaery hid it quite well while Lady Lyanna was weary of pretensions and slightly more confrontational most of the time. 

 

Finally Lady Sansa saw Brienne and, smiling, asked his companion to join her. So she did. Jaime kept his distance, but not enough since he wanted to hear everything. The little Queen asked Brienne's company to walk around to the balcony for a while. 

 

Though soldiers never left their side, at the balcony they had some sort of privacy. And the little Queen was soon whispering to Brienne, trying to keep distance from their guards. Jaime was torn between spying on her or the very serious conversation that Lord Stark seemed to be having with Lord Selwyn and other lords. In the end the ladies seemed to be more interesting and he pretended to pay attention to a lady whose name he forgot the moment she uttered the words, while keeping enough distance he wouldn't be too obvious.

 

“My dear Lady, it gladdens me so to have your company, so much has happened since we last met,” chirped the red-head, innocently clinging to Brienne's arm. “I found love, just like you, but my love was more solicitous. He had to wed me, said it was urgent so that we wouldn't commit sin. He sings prettily, he knows so many poems and he is concerned about my appearance. He knows about silks, and linen, and flowers. We have so much to talk about. It is so unlike my brothers, he is interested in what I have to say... but don't believe the rumors my dear, we haven't fallen to sin.” The girl pressed her lips together nervously. In silence her eyes observed Brienne's and expected her reply, as if Brienne was the judge that was about to pass the sentence against Sansa's crimes. 

 

“I never doubted the honesty of my lady. Has my queen found happiness, then?” Brienne's reply made Sansa relax considerably but she was still slightly excited.

 

“Oh yes... but you see... we haven't fallen to sin, we haven't... he only ever kissed my hand... and I... Mother told me... my duty as a wife...” The confused girl stuttered ineffectually. Jaime was amused to see the moment when it dawned on Brienne what her little lady's problem was... and how her blue eyes widened in shock. Her mouth opened and he could almost see her thinking about another topic to change the direction of the conversation quickly, yet Sansa was faster. “We haven't yet been together as husband and wife,” whispered Sansa secretively, speaking even softer than previously. “It worries me, since it's my duty as a wife to give an heir to the crown. My poor aunt suffered a great deal for never being able to fulfill that role, I do not want to suffer a likely fate.” 

 

Brienne's mouth continued to be open and hesitant before she finally said, “I am sure the time will come my lady, it might be necessary to be patient.”

 

“I do hope that is true, my dear Lady. I wish I knew what to do. According to my maid, a woman always waits and the husband comes, but mine hasn't. Does he find me beautiful no more?” Sansa pleaded with her eyes again for Brienne to pass judgment.

 

“That can't be the problem, your Grace is as beautiful as always,” was Brienne's awkward reply. Though little Sansa was indeed beautiful, Brienne was surely finding the subject very hard.

 

“Then it must be something else... he seems so sad. I do not know how to cheer him up.”

 

“Is he sad for the death of Lord Renly?” _That's my Brienne. You are finally listening to me._

Brienne actually observed Loras Tyrell at that moment. One wouldn't need to be a vampire to notice how affected he was by Lord Renly's death. Loras was seated in the throne, with tired and red eyes, his hair was not as lovely as always and he was dressed in such a way that hadn't it been for the crown on his head he could have been just another soldier. He kept grabbing and releasing the sword by his side, and decidedly ignored anyone who tried to talk to him.

 

“Yes indeed, he said Lord Renly was his best friend, the best man in the world. He said that no knight could ever shine with equal light,” Sansa agreed.

 

“Perhaps after mourning for some time, he will be... more willing,” suggested Brienne.

 

“Do you honestly think so?” The young girl looked so hopeful. “I do hope it's true. You see... other maids had said... suggested other... had given me other ideas about how to attract a man. It so distressed me... the thought alone that I should behave like a... I wouldn't be able to find it in myself. It's so distressing to be wedded! It wasn't as I read it, as they told me, there is so much that is expected from me and so much I don't understand,” complained the girl.

 

“I could only imagine it, my lady. Are my lady's new relations kind?” Brienne observed Margaery in her fruitless attempts to engage in a conversation with her brother.

 

“Oh yes, most kind. Margaery is so kind, she's a great friend, and so clever. She has so many ideas and the best advice always. I think I couldn't choose anything without her,” said the girl, laughing shyly.

 

 _Yes, she has you well and trapped, little one_ , thought Jaime. It seemed the little flower of Highgarden had her thorns all over Lady Sansa. 

 

“It's a pity that from time to time dear aunt Lyanna can't seem to agree with Margaery's witty ideas, they never really quarrel but I can see that they don't always fancy each other's presence. Margaery says it's due to jealousy, but I think it's because both have ideas they want to see become reality.”

 

 _So the little girl is not so stupid, interesting but dangerous for her_ , mused Jaime, surprised.

 

“Margaery has actually given me a few good advises regarding marriage. But if I may be honest with you, it all sounds so sordid. This business between a man and a woman sounds painful and dirty. I always thought being married was beautiful, but this duty… I am so afraid of it. How can one wish for it?”

 

Brienne was on the cusp of discomfort, shifting her weight from one side to the other and avoiding the little girl's eyes as Sansa spoke about the matters of a married couple.

 

“It might become...better with time.” She managed to choke out, and then she added quickly, “I have been told.”

 

“Yes, Margaery said the same. She tells me that it will be painful just at the beginning and then it will pass and it can be good and it can be something that I could want. But how? Why would I want it? It sounds so primitive. Much like an animal, it doesn't sound like something a lady should do, let alone want.”

 

 _You are so innocent, little girl..._ Jaime smiled. Brienne was decidedly looking at the moon, as if wishing that a dragon could fly by and eat her. The onslaught continued.

 

“Could a lady really want it? Do you think it's possible?” Sansa inquired insistently.

 

“My lady, I know only what I have heard. And that is…yes, that it could happen.” Brienne seemed to be speaking to the stones of the wall instead of her young companion.

 

“Oh, do forgive me my Lady, how could you know? You haven't yet been wedded. These things are a mystery for you as much as they are for me! You might even marry soon, and here I am scaring you with regards to your duties with my concerns. Forgive me,” begged the girl. If another would have said those words, Jaime would have been sure they were feigned and false. Yet the lady in question had such a sweet and innocent tone when she said it, they were honest. Sansa was like a little bird, singing pretty songs and living in her world of innocence. Sansa really had no clue of what had transpired between Brienne and Jaime. 

 

“Do not concern yourself, my Queen. I can only imagine how heavy a duty for a recently wedded woman must be. It must be hard to be asked, as vehemently as you, that my lady fulfills this particular duty,” Brienne said to her own hands.

 

The little queen sighed and nodded. Then, as she was absent-mindedly looking at the guests, her face illuminated. “Oh, there you are Sandor. Come, come,” she said, in the most infantile display of enthusiasm. The one she was asking for was a knight slightly taller than Brienne, but ugly as death. Half his face had suffered due to fire, which was clear. And he seemed dangerous. Why would the little bird show such attachment to him? He approached, with a serious face, and stood next to the Queen, observing Brienne with such coldness that Jaime decided to give some steps towards them, just in case.

 

“This is Sandor, he's my loyal knight. My cousin Robin was particularly attached to him, but since he saved my life once, he came into my service. Wasn't it so?” She asked smiling at him

 

He only assented silently and kept measuring Brienne, with his hand menacingly on the hilt of his sword. 

 

“Pleased to meet you Ser, and thank you for protecting our Queen,” Brienne tried unsuccessfully to give a small curtsy. The man only observed her for a minute in a silence that seemed to stretch indefinitely. 

 

“She wasn't a queen yet,” finally said the brute.

 

“Even more so,” Brienne wouldn't be easily scared.

 

“Do be nice to her,” said the Lady Sansa and for a split second Jaime would have sworn that the man's features relaxed as he regarded the queen, but soon it was gone and he was a brute, loyal dog again. “She's my friend. Oh, you can't be helped,” she touched him on one arm, “try and enjoy the celebration.”

 

“My duty is to protect my Queen,” he insisted.

 

“There aren't enemies here tonight!” Said the girl, truly believing it, “try some Dornish wine, I have been told it's quite good.”

 

He nodded and went. 

 

“He is a serious man, but a good one...despite all.” The Queen commented mysteriously once her knight was far away.

 

“What is your Grace referring to?”

 

“Oh, many things, so many that I learned at the Vale. My cousin,” she whispered again, “he is not a sweet boy as some may think. He was cruel and treated Sandor poorly. Sandor came into service to the Vale as an agreement between Lannisters and Arryns many decades ago. It was his duty as one of the second sons of the Clegane family. My cousin called him dog and commanded the most horrible things. It is no wonder he isn't loved, but that will change. My aunt told me I could choose any of the men from her guard as a present for my wedding and I chose Sandor.” She laughed, “they were so surprised and tried to persuade me to change my mind. They said he would kill me in my sleep,” and she laughed even more. “But I didn't. Everybody fears him but I know he will never hurt me.”

 

And for once, the little girl was right about something. That big, rude man might look like a rabid dog, yet he was a pup in the young Queen's hands. It was obvious to Jaime.

 

An unexpected commotion made Jaime observe the other side of the room, where a knight was running towards the king. When the man reached the stairs that led to the chair where the king was sitting, he kneeled and announced: “Your grace, terrible news, may I speak with my King and Queen in private?” The man asked with a confident voice despite his harsh breathing.

 

“If it's a matter of the Kingdom we should be brave and face this news together. Please, say what you must, good man,” said King Loras, grandiloquently but boringly. Next to him his sister was about to protest, but the knight had already opened his mouth.

 

“Your grace, the Vale has been taken by Stannis,” announced the knight and the room grew suddenly silent. 

 

Then, as Sandor diligently approached the Queen while she made her way towards the emissary, Brienne by her side, all the eyes moved to her. The little queen was pale yet firm when she said, “is there any word regarding my aunt?”

 

Lady Catelyn was observing her daughter in earnest, slowly making her way towards Sansa. Lord Stark was observing the scene seriously, his hand on his sword.

 

The knight's face fell and he looked down “Your Grace, as far as we know... no one survived.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... what do you think about this whole business? Share your thoughts and ideas with me, please. Thank you for reading my story - and especial thanks to those who comment - and hope you come for more.


	23. The root of all evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a war it is hard to find who is the one who truly deserves to die. Some memories can be recovered but it might be too late. Brienne has a hard time in this quest but she finally finds the one who she should kill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All thanks and praise to H3L for her help in making this loads better. It seems I've got a thing for 13th of each month, huh?

Darkness was making it's slow pace, falling like a veil delicately over the grass and mountains, the animals and shapes of those who used to be alive. A day ago a man was kissing a lace given to him by his beloved, it had been so important to him. He held it tightly even now that the hand was no longer a part of his body. The black haired man, whose joke had made a group of ten weary men laugh so hard they felt their insides were going to explode, was now splayed in the most unnatural way. He was lying on top of another; who was none other but the one who wanted to marry his neighbor's daughter. He had said it once and again, never tiring of his story about the sweet rosy-cheeked girl who was going to give him children as plum as she was herself. 

 

There lay the taciturn man that kept to himself and his letters. Here was the one who sang those feisty songs every other night and, over a rock and with his face hidden from view, was the one whose age was not even adequate enough for him to be there. The dust rose with each stride, boots dragged wearily, lonesome. Still the lone soldier persisted and advanced. With one leg after the other, they kicked up more dust to cover the torn shapes of those who used to be men. She never met them that intimately. No, it wasn't the case, it was just the curse. It was just her sensitivity, and nothing else, that had given her uninvited and intimate knowledge about these men. 

 

Nevertheless it made her heart ache to know the dreams of those who were fated to never accomplish them. Many of these men were cruel. Many were just driven to their actions due to hunger and panic. Some did believe in the cause, while others had only been following orders they didn't comprehend. As much as she tried, she never had the time to finish burying them all. Finally she reached that young fellow, the one that dreamed of becoming lord commander of the city. As she approached she saw his empty eyes firm on the horizon, someone had twisted his head. He seemed surprised. He was probably not even aware that he had died. He was so young. What was he doing there in the first place? Who convinced him to come? It was so cruel...she kneeled and closed his eyes. They were still, yet she imagined them inquiring of her where had she been. Why didn't she come earlier? Why didn't she save him? Many songs and poems could be written about wars and deeds, yet the reality was that in each battle there was no honor, no dreams. There is no compassion, not even for a young lad who got himself accidentally trapped in a war he surely couldn't have understood.

 

She was famished after having avoided nourishment for three nights. After she had seen that the enemy camp was so much like their own she hadn't been able to feed on them. She still wasn't that skilled in reading them, and in war there was but little time to decide, so she avoided eating altogether. As if being in possession of such information, a shadow crawled behind her in a sinister pace. As it was about to fall on her, Brienne rose and pivoted facing it. Before the creature landed his feet near her its head flew away from its body. The sight and smell of fresh blood was too much and she sunk her teeth in the source of blood and drank ferociously, becoming completely oblivious of her surroundings. 

 

Another approached, yet she was too concentrated with her feeding to notice. When it came close enough to strike she rose her face in anger, as a dog does in a similar situation, and the minute part of her brain indicated there was no danger she plunged face forward to her prey again. Only after her feeding was over and she felt her weariness vanish did she care to observe again who had approached.

 

“I do hope that you keep yourself well fed from now on, my lady. Health suits you better,” the green-eyed man said with that sharp smile of his. 

 

Brienne was ashamed. Not only for her recent behavior, but for thinking she could overcome her urges for longer. It also frustrated her he had seen her in that state and had decided to laugh about her attempts to avoid murdering innocents.

 

“Do not mock me,” she replied sullenly.

 

“I don't. I understand your conflict, yet you have to remember that war has never been any different, my lady.”

 

“I told you not to call me _lady_ ,” she replied, while rising and cleaning her face.

 

“Should I digress and call you wench instead?”

 

“Just call me Brienne, Jaime.” Observing the headless body at her feet, “this was a vampire, no?” She asked her maker, suddenly worried.

 

“Yes, he was.” She was relieved. “But in the state you were, you could have ended up murdering one of our own, Brienne. It is dangerous to fast, especially in a situation such as this,” he said, evincing the many dead bodies with his hands. “The temptation is far too strong, the pull will not cease until you succumb to it. If you want to avoid hurting your brothers in arms, your soldiers, it is best to keep yourself properly fed,” Jaime urged her. 

 

Nothing of what Jaime said was new to her, yet his condescending tone was irrationally irritating. Adding to her annoyance was the fact that she had avoided eating only for want of one that truly deserved it, at least as far as she could tell. Coming to terms with what she needed in order to survive, and keep her promise to Jaime, was a path full of thorns and falls. Blood of men would keep her alive, and if she failed to feed herself she wouldn't die but rather be dominated by the beast inside until the thirst would be filled. It frustrated her. All of it. The situation she was in, how Jaime mocked her attempts, and what he had made her promise. 

 

Yet there was nothing for her to do but fight. She had utterly failed Lord Renly, she couldn't fail Lady Sansa, her queen. Brienne would never be able to forget how terrible her failure was. She had failed him, in the worst possible way. Even after having a dream particularly warning her of Lord Renly's death, she failed to realize he was in danger. No, she forgot him, his face and his gentle smile, and remembered only after he had truly died. Not a dream, a real death. She had even sworn a vow to protect him. Yes, she remembered that too late as well. Why? Why hadn't she been more vigilant? What use was being so powerful if she would still fail her king? But the worst were her feelings. On the same night he had died she had felt such contempt towards him. She detested herself for that. Being able to hear him that well had heard had tainted the image she had of him. It was blemished forever. It was only luck that she had never heard anything too insulting coming from the mouths of Lady Sansa or Lady Lyanna, or even her father. She didn't want another taint in the memory of those she cared about. It might be for the best to be in the field, away from them, so she couldn't hear them speak.

 

Brienne was sure, though, that the queen would never speak harsh words regarding her _Lady Knight_ , as she called Brienne in her letters _._ Brienne could still remember that day she had seen the girl turn into a queen. Lady Sansa had stood tall and proud the moment she heard of the massacre of the Vale. She carried herself so honorably. It was to everyone's amazement that the one losing all composure had been Loras Tyrell.

 

“Stannis, it was Stannis! I'll kill him! I'll cut him to pieces! I'll show the entire world what a lizard he is,” Loras screamed, seizing the opportunity to jump into war with the excuse of revenging the death of his wife’s aunt. Despite how hard Lady Margaery tried to calm her brother, he was consumed with rage. The coronation ended abruptly. 

 

Yet the surprises hadn't ended there. Another messenger arrived the following day, with news that Dorne had been taken by a force of soldiers apparently led by a woman they said was as _white as snow._ A garrison commanded by Ned Stark was sent to Dorne, while the other, led by the king himself, went to meet Stannis' forces. Wishing to revenge the death of his wife's sister, Lord Stark had been initially reluctant to leave in the opposite direction, yet the King had been adamant on his decision. Brienne couldn't understand yet why Jaime had remained suspiciously quiet on the subject... And then there was the matter of the protection of King's Landing's. Though the command of the forces that were to protect Kings Landing was supposed to fall on Mace Tyrell's shoulders, in a way, it actually fell on Lady Lyanna's. It was somehow hilarious, in the mist of all the tragedy, to see her command despite Lord Tyrell trying to walk at her pace. In the end he desisted and just limited his activities to governing while his son went to battle. Soon after the King had left, Brienne gathered men loyal to her father and Jaime gathered those loyal to his family, and they set off for the Vale. Lord Selwyn had wanted to leave for battle, but Brienne managed to convince him to stay to protect the Queen. That night Brienne had cried, detesting herself for using her _skill_ to save her father from war but it couldn't be helped. She needed to protect at least Lady Sansa and her own father. Knowing that Lady Lyanna was in King's Landing as well was a relief, that those she had sworn to protect were still among the living and were safe for now. 

 

 

Brienne observed the field and then the body at her own feet. _Why?_

 

“Why was this one alone?”

 

“There are lone wolfs out there, you know. I was one... well, practically one,” Jaime corrected himself.

 

“Practically...?” Jaime was about to reply but Brienne had no time for dwelling in his past “We have seen them, but in groups of two and three. He was alone... was he not part of the group or...”

 

“It was probably the other option... probably attracted by the smell.”

 

“Then... that means...” _That we are in deep trouble._

 

“Yes, it means that we can expect ghouls as well.”

 

“What are ghouls?” She hadn't heard that word before.

 

“Oh... it's...” Jaime seemed nervous, “beings... not like us. Beings that lack control, almost entirely beasts but with our need of blood.”

 

Brienne grew worried. She and Jaime might not be enough to fight the already large group of Vampires that were roaming the area, let alone some strange blood thirsty beast. But there was something else that bothered her.

 

“Jaime…what are those creatures?” she pushed him.

 

“I told you-” he stuttered.

 

“Let me rephrase my question...what is their origin?” _Stop playing, Jaime_

 

He pretended to be distracted by a wind that blew particularly cold at that moment. It seemed the falling leaves suddenly were of utmost importance. Brienne waited patiently, these silly tricks of Jaime’s were not new to her. Eventually he would notice she wouldn't drop the subject, that she would insist until he told her.

 

Finally his eyes trailed towards her, observing her feet then slowly raising until his unearthly green eyes locked with her unnaturally blue ones. And for a second she wanted to abandon her annoyance, let the problem be forgotten and let Jaime keep his secrets, and to just wander in all that wild greenness and let herself be lost in him. Instead she closed her eyes and her momentary indecision vanished. She opened her eyes again and knew by the way he observed her that her determination was clear to him.

 

“Those ghouls are... a product of an unfinished transformation. When a vampire bites a human the maker needs to be sure that said human consumes vampire blood at least twice in the next few days...otherwise he or she turns into that.”

 

Jaime's words seemed to cut her in two. The implication of those words was an opening towards a strange and fearful world. Curiosity could take her there, and though a part of her wanted to ask him another part of her insisted she leave it alone, bury her questions and change the subject. And both voices were screaming at her desperately.

 

In the end, she asked, “I drank from you one night after you drank from me... who did I drank from on my third night?”

 

She measured every word, saying each one with care, with fear. _Why? Why is this so uncomfortable? What am I scared of?_

 

Jaime's behavior didn't help her to calm her insecurities, since he turned around and replied without looking at her. “It was a vampire who attacked you, I don't know her name but she escaped.”

 

“Jaime!” And with two long strides she was in front of him. “Which vampire is this? I don't remember her,” and she brusquely took his chin and made him observe her. Trying to remember what he had said and using her experience she tried to read his eyes to obtain from him what his mouth didn't want to reveal.

 

“It was someone you know, very well. Was it someone you loved? Someone... that hurt you?” But Jaime closed his eyes and pushed her to the side.

 

“Who was she, Jaime?” Brienne insisted, “did I hurt someone important to you?”

 

Jaime only shook his head, “not her”

 

“What do you mean? Talk to me,” she demanded.

 

“Brienne, it is not important.”

 

“Yes it is. Did I hurt someone important to you?”

 

“No, you didn't. I wouldn't have even been upset with you if you did. She betrayed me with so many that it would have even been poetic justice, but she is fine. You don't need to worry about it, and besides you weren't even in control of yourself.”

 

“What do you mean by that? Do you mean to tell me that day I had no control at all? And does that mean... those days... those that I can't remember...”

 

Jaime seemed suddenly flustered but he said, “It’s nothing, my lady. It is normal, it is like the hunger one feels, something normal that happens to all of us.”

 

_He lies._

 

“But even in my hunger I can remember what I did later. Those days, I can't remember them. I can't remember that vampire you mentioned, I can't remember you telling me about her before. Jaime, I need to know about those days.” Curiosity had won and she had finally asked, but she was frightened, very frightened of what she might learn.

 

“Nothing happened, and my history with that other vampire is over. She's gone somewhere else. We'll never see her again. She's alive, but she's gone. She had so many other lovers, Brienne...”

 

Jaime wanted to hide something from her and Brienne was too scared to find out the truth, but the moment Jaime started talking about this mysterious lover of his she could feel it had hurt him. That woman had hurt him. The need to console him overcame her and, placing her hands on his shoulders, she decided that there would be another time to ask about those lost days. 

 

“Jaime, I-” Right when she was looking for a way to offer consolation she heard a scream. It came from her camp. Jaime turned to look at her and said that which she feared. “Ghouls.”

 

 

 

There had been so many of them. 

 

Brienne could only imagine that they liked to roam around the woods, because that's where those who escaped left to. They were particularly stupid, not realizing the danger but at the last moment, when the sword was already at their necks and about to cut them. Maybe that had saved the soldiers. Only three men from their camp had died, the others were hurt but not dead. Her men were surprised but confused when Jaime and she had started observing if they had bites. They couldn't know what they were looking for. 

 

Opening her tent she strode outside. Some men were resting, some were awake. They had seen so many horrors that night and surely some couldn't believe their bad luck. Two attacks in one day, the last one by a horde of monsters. Brienne felt guilty, knowing that one of her kind was to blame for the existence of those ghouls. Now she understood why Jaime removed or crushed the head of those he killed for nourishment. She would make sure she did the same. It was good that he was always so near, he would be the one making sure no men would turn into ghouls when he was around. But now there was a war. There might come a time when she fed off someone and, she shivered thinking, she produced a ghoul. So much about her existence was now trying as hard as she could not to hurt the innocents, it was exhausting. She was such a threat to so many, yet her vows kept her alive. One of those nights she remembered the vows she had sworn, she had sworn to protect her father, Lord Renly, Lady Sansa and Lady Lyanna. Why had she remembered when it was too late? When Lord Renly was already dead? Who was the woman who had hurt Jaime so badly? And why couldn't she remember those days after she became what she now was?

 

Suddenly, she stopped walking. There was a strange smell in the air. Fast, she moved towards it. It was not a human. Maybe more ghouls? It would have been wise to wait for Jaime, but he was probably chasing the remaining ghouls somewhere else. If it was a small group, Brienne could deal with them. But the smell wasn't that of a witless creature. Strangely, she felt her hair rising, as if she were a scared cat. Despite her bizarre reaction she kept her pace, approaching with each stride whatever odd creature was awaiting her. A figure was standing on top of several dead bodies. It was delicate but the air surrounding her was that of a powerful being. Brienne couldn't say if it was a man or a woman. She could only say that the creature had seen her. Curiously, it didn't move, it waited. So Brienne, despite being, wary, kept walking.

 

And then she saw her, truly saw her; those cruel eyes, that arrogant smile, her crimson dress. In her eyes Brienne saw the truth. In her smile her teeth were revealed, along with her intentions. All the memories came flooding back to Brienne as sudden and strong as a storm at sea. She had memories of that woman, mocking her and laughing about her, trying to hurt her and kill her. Brienne remembered the woman threatening Lady Sansa, laughing about Jaime, laughing about life and about honor. In that moment Brienne knew, this was the woman who had killed Renly. She knew it. She could almost see it happening, could almost see Lord Renly's heart in the hands of this woman and the surprise in Lord Renly's eyes at the moment he realized he was about to die, bleeding in the garden. The moment he saw his dreams would die with him, his pride, the chance to rule. This woman had killed a decent man. He might have been vane, but he was good and Brienne knew it. Brienne had thought such terrible things about Lord Renly and had lost all opportunities to apologize, to approach him and beg his forgiveness, all because of this woman. She could almost smell Renly's blood on this woman's hands, on her mouth, on her breath... could almost see her smiling the moment she took Renly's life. 

 

In her eyes she could read the threat as clear as day. The threat this woman meant to all that Brienne had ever loved, would ever love. She could read how this creature, this beastly woman, planned to hunt down, torture, humiliate and finally kill all those people that Brienne cared for and had vowed to protect. All that she cherished would be crushed until nothing from them remained but dust and crushed bone. And that woman knew she could do it, she could destroy them as if they were nothing for they _were_ nothing to her. That woman was her enemy, her complete opposite, a _devil_. She was the one who had victimized Brienne once, twice... who could continue doing so if given the chance. 

 

Yes, Brienne knew this woman, she could remember now. How did she forget? The woman who crushed the life away from Lord Renly, the woman Brienne now knew she had to kill. Of course, she knew this murderer. It was always her, would always be her. It was her that was causing all the pain, all the sorrow. She was behind the ghouls and the vampires in the war. It was her, the one who had hurt Jaime. It was Cersei Lannister. 

 

She had to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, she came back. Where you wondering where she was? I am wondering where Bri is in the new trailer, I am a bit angry because there was no Brienne >:( Oh well, if you came this far in the story, I thank you a lot and please leave a comment and tell me what you think about this story of mine.
> 
> Ps: Not really thinking that Cersei is the root of all evil, but in Bri's eyes in here, yes.


	24. A maid on the run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a surprising and devastating attack, two girls run for their lives and later learn the truth about their foes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay and thanks a lot for reading this story. Thanks and praise to lovely H3L for being a wonderful beta and always cheering me up with her comments. This chapter might come as a surprise, but hope it will be one you like

It had been months since the Lady Brienne, her Lady Knight, went missing. Some presumed her dead. Sansa remembered clearly that night they had met, in her fear and confusion she hadn't been able to recognize that the one saving her was a woman. Only when they were back in her family's residence and Brienne introduced herself did Sansa realize her gender. 

 

For the brief period after she had been spared from losing her dignity and life to then be taken to her family, Sansa had wondered who the mysterious hero was. She had been too shocked to say much, Sansa had barely spoken to Brienne. Though her savior's face wasn't beautiful, Sansa's mind – filled with stories of great and gallant knights – had entertained briefly the idea of a potential love interest. Very briefly. She couldn't help it, so many of the stories she had read and songs she had heard had started thus, with a brave knight saving a poor lady from danger. Given time, Sansa didn't mind that Brienne was a woman, but she felt extremely distressed about never properly thanking the lady knight for saving her life. Therefore she had insisted on being present on the championship where Brienne participated. Jon had accompanied her. Jon, her blood, her brother and the one she never hugged, not even once... 

 

The fates of Brienne and of Jon weren't the only ones she was distressed about. What had happened to her father or Brienne's fiance was also a mystery to Sansa. Her own Lord husband had finally gotten his revenge by slaying Stannis, yet the corpses of men missing hearts were still a common occurrence. Sansa didn't need anyone to tell her that it could as well mean that Stannis was indeed innocent after all. Loras had stayed and fought the remaining forces, but he reported that at night the strangest attacks kept happening. Loras seemed to want for nothing but blood, even after Stannis's death he only craved for more death.

 

Margaery had told Sansa that some men want a woman after they fight, and Sansa had waited patiently. Very patiently, and trying with all her might to cast her fears aside. She wanted to bury the sour memories of their last night together. Yes, she would be dutiful, she would play her part, however much the idea still scared her. She would be a good wife. Even if her marriage with Loras was less than ideal they had a duty. But she never had the chance, her marriage was never consummated. He hadn't been there, no, he hadn't been in King's Landing's on that fated night.

 

 

“Why do you trust him?” Screamed Arya, as if rage could solve anything. 

 

She was wearing rags. They had probably belonged to some boy once, a stable boy perhaps. Why was she always dressed as a boy? And how could she be angry to be mistaken as one when she dressed thus? 

 

“He saved me,” answered Sansa, tiredly. So many days in that boat, and Arya kept being angry. Sansa was exhausted, she knew she hadn't moved much but their mode travel made her feel ill. 

Why couldn't Arya calm herself? For a second Sansa was about to think what she had thought some months before, that she wished a sister like Maergary, but she stopped herself. 

 

Lovely Margaery. 

 

Yet now... now she knew better. Margaery, for all her loveliness, hadn't been honest. The letters she sent Sansa after they met at Margaery's wedding had insinuated of a secret admirer. A man Margaery knew “loved” Sansa. They wrote to each other as often as possible, and Margaery's letters had convinced Sansa that a man worshiped the soil she walked on. Sansa had been so happy! The moment she finally met Loras Tyrell her biggest dreams seemed to become a reality. He confessed he was that man her sister mentioned, and Sansa had taken his awkwardness and blushes as prove of the truth of Margaery's words. Loras had said that what Margaery had done had been a great injustice, putting _his feelings_ in evidence. Sansa had believed him. 

 

Had believed _them both_. 

 

But though they married, her lord husband never even kissed her mouth. All his insistence and then he only spoke to her as a friend. Sometimes he was too busy discussing issues with his grandmother, or some men Sansa barely knew. She was worried that he seemed to enjoy everyone’s company but hers. However, she couldn't help but feeling happy of how well she was being treated by the Tyrells. They made her favorite lemon cakes quite often. It seemed luck was finally smiling at her. Innocently, she believed that whatever issues she had with her husband would eventually be solved and she would be happy and loved, loved by the people, by her family, by her husband and his family as well. All would be well. Eventually, Loras would no longer be so anxious at having to share a bed with her. Every night before she went to sleep, Sansa calmed her fears at seeing how distressed Loras was by dreaming of a happy life. In time she had managed to lie to herself as well as those who surrounded her. 

 

It was the day the news about the Vale massacre arrived that Sansa finally realized Loras had never loved her. Only then, did she admit to herself what she had begun suspecting before, her doubt had increased after Lord Renly's death. Though she tried to calm him after Renly died, he had cried so much and then simply left their room. When the decision came that they would become the new regents Sansa couldn't believe her luck, but he received the news with a tart expression. Then when the news from the Vale arrived, on their coronation day, he seemed to have lost all composure. Once they were alone he had grabbed her hands and looked in her eyes, there was such a strength in his emotions that Sansa thought he was about to kiss her. He seemed to try to say something, something difficult, but he only shook his head and said, “I am sorry, Sansa, it is not possible. You are a good person, we shouldn't have but my family... they insisted... you deserve... but I can't. I will never be able to.” Sansa shook her head and opened her mouth to tell him that maybe with time he would love her. However, as if able to read her mind, he only held her hands very strongly and said once more, “never, I would never... the brightest sun in my life has flickered and died. I can't.” What shocked her most weren't just his words, but that he was silently crying as he spoke. He had left afterwards. Sansa had remained, seated on their bed and looking at the empty space he had occupied, a maid unloved.

 

Loras had left the following day with many men. Sansa had spoken with her mother after that, despite how embarrassed she’d felt she’d needed guidance. Her mother had told her that many marriages start unlovingly, but that with patience two people can learn to love each other. Her mother had hugged her and Sansa was grateful. Not only for the comfort, but because she hadn't accused her of being a stupid girl. Sansa had been stupid, eloping with Loras and thinking he loved her. Thinking theirs was one of those romantic and tragic loves, thinking she could take fate in her hands and make theirs a happy love story. But life isn't like the songs. Not all the beautiful knights will love the fair maiden, not all the maiden are lovely and not all the lovely maidens were true. 

 

 

“No one came back for me but him,” insisted Sansa, trying to expel the past and the pretty knights from her mind. The present definitely required her attention. Arya needed to understand, Sandor wasn't the man Arya thought he was. He wasn't the man everybody said he was. So she told Arya. 

 

 

Sansa could still remember it, as if it had happened only a day ago. The hunting expedition, Lord Arryn and his men went in one direction while she was left with her cousin Robin and his guards. Little Robin had wanted to imitate his father, wanted to return with a bigger prey to prove his worth. So he ordered his men to take him to a part of the forest where the biggest animals were supposed to live. The men refused, insisted that there also roamed the tribes, the savages. Robin wouldn't hear them. He went nonetheless, taking Sansa with him. The men finally followed him. It had all gone wrong. They were attacked and Robin pushed Sansa out of the horse they were sharing in order to the beast to run faster. Sansa had run with all the strength she had left, hurt, lost and scared. She hadn't expected to survive. Then he came back. He, Sandor, the one they all feared. He was the man that had told her that horrible story about wooden toys, and a terrible brother, and so much fire. That huge, scary man came back for her. He gruesomely killed the men that were about to rip her clothes to pieces and dragged her onto his horse.

 

Sandor took her to the castle. They climbed the steps together, and he only left her when she was in the care of the nurses. When her uncle returned Robin and even his aunt pretended it had all been a terrible accident, and that Sansa had just fallen from her horse. Loras Tyrell had been most gracious, visiting her every day and reading stories for her so that she could forget that nightmare. But Sansa could have sworn that Sandor was always nearby. From time to time she saw him walking by her room and peeking in. The moment he realized she saw him, he would leave. Sandor had a new sword, Loras had given it to him “for saving my lady,” he had said. 

 

 

Sansa told Arya the story, among protests and interruptions, but she managed nevertheless. She finished by saying, “he saved me then and now he is saving both of us.”

 

“He's just following orders,” insisted Arya

 

“You are wrong,” said Sansa. “You don't know him, you should be thankful.”

 

It was partially true. Only partially. 

 

 

That terrible night, their last night in the Red Keep, aunt Lyanna had screamed at Sandor once she saw how he was taking Sansa. Her aunt had even unsheathed her sword and ordered him to release Sansa. In the confusion Sansa herself didn't know what to do. Why was he kidnapping her? She felt betrayed. Sansa had been the only one to believe he could be a good man, after all. Some strong words were shared between her aunt and Sandor, he said that he was saving Sansa from the massacre. “Everybody in this fucking castle will die, it's only you idiotic nobles who can't see that.” Sansa couldn't see her aunt's face but heard how she lowered her sword and ordered him to follow her. Sandor kept running, and then she heard her aunt shouting at someone and a discussion followed. At some point it seemed her aunt just grabbed whoever was arguing with her and carried said person in the same way Sansa herself was being carried.

 

“Aunt Lyanna, let me go!” And then Sansa recognized the voice of her own sister, Arya. 

 

“Quiet already!” Screamed Aunt Lyanna. 

 

They kept running, Aunt Lyanna ordered a couple of men to come to their aid. One of these men protested, soon her aunt forced him to follow her orders. They fought their way to a hidden door. They were attacked more than once but managed it.

 

It was all too confusing. What were those creatures that were attacking them? They even seemed to be able to fly. Her tears wouldn't let Sansa see clearly, but she would have sworn that she had seen a female shape among them. A beautiful woman, pale and blond-haired and dressed in red, Sansa saw her on the window of the tower when the pandemonium began. She had never seen someone so eerily beautiful in her life before, a woman that didn't seem to be human at all. It was only a fleeting feeling, but Sansa was afraid for her. She seemed so frail and the attackers were about to reach her. Sansa, paralyzed by fear, could only look on in despair. Even if she had screamed, the woman was too far away to hear her. The memory of herself in that forest and at the mercy of those men came back to her and she opened the window to scream at the woman, but then the bandits ran past her as if she wasn't even there. It was then that Sansa thought that it must be a ghost, and she ran away only to collide with Sandor and found herself grabbed up by him. 

 

As tears ran down her face she was barely able to distinguish the stones of the corridor, and she was almost sure she had no memory of that place. It was too dark, but then unexpectedly there was light, however dim. She was finally placed on the ground, except that it wasn't ground. It moved. It took some seconds but it finally dawned to Sansa that she was in a boat. Lyanna was giving orders to Sandor, she would have sworn she heard her aunt say, “and if that's not enough, rob people on your way. I don't care, take them there. Do you hear me?” Sandor only nodded but he seemed very serious. There was something strange in Sandor's look. It was only later, once she had been able to analyze the situation more calmly, that she realized that it was respect that she had read in Sandor's face that day. It was the first time that she had seen Sandor look at an authoritative figure with such an expression on his features. Lyanna only looked at her nieces once and kissed both on the forehead. Jon Snow, who it had turned out, was the man that had protested before, hugged Arya. He whispered something to her and gave her his cape, but only nodded towards Sansa. Soon they were moving away from them. Sandor was rowing as hard as he could. Aunt Lyanna had a strange expression on her face, a mixture of grief and satisfaction. 

 

Further and further they went, and soon they would leave the grotto. Arya was silent until it happened, a group of bandit came out of nowhere. It seemed they had just fallen from the ceiling. Arya shouted, grabbed and tried to push Sandor, insisted that they needed to go back to save them. Sandor kept on rowing and told her to sit and shut her mouth. Arya kept on screaming until Sansa finally reacted.

 

“Come and sit here, sister,” said Sansa, quietly.

 

“What?”

 

“Just sit here,” insisted Sansa.

 

“How can you tell me to sit? Don't you see?” Arya mover her hands towards the fight that was taking place. The foes kept coming, yet Jon, Lyanna and two of the soldiers were still fighting.

 

“Arya, sit,” said Sansa, still calmly

 

“No, we have to!”

 

“Arya,” said Sansa, louder but still not as loud as her sister. “Don't you see? These aren't men... don't throw away our aunt's sacrifice.”

 

Arya's eyes widened, but she sat and kept quiet, observing the fight. Her chest kept rising and falling at a quick pace, evidencing her internal turmoil. Her eyes were horrified by what she saw. Sansa couldn't look, she only heard, but the expression on Arya's face was enough. Only when they were about to leave the grotto did Sansa dare looking again. It was the last time she saw her aunt. Only she and Jon Snow remained alive, fighting fiercely against the never-ending flow of foes. Her heart constricted painfully on her chest, Sansa pressed her lips together and wept silently. She had hugged her aunt a few times, but never enough, yet she had never even once hugged Jon Snow. And even then, he was ready to give his life for her.

 

Sansa suppressed a cry, covering her mouth, when one of those monsters saw them escape and started to run in the water. He was about to jump and swim towards them when Aunt Lyanna took his head off. It had been so fast Sansa didn't have time to avert her eyes. Lyanna was so fierce, and Jon as well. Even their way of fighting was similar. Yet the foes were too many and they kept rowing away, to the point where Sansa couldn't see them anymore.

 

By the time it was morning, Sandor had already bought – or robbed – horses. He directed them, only the gods knew where. Sandor had kept his word. He had stolen a cape from a dead body and given it to Sansa. Initially Sansa resisted, but Sandor told her that she better wear that if she didn't want to end up raped and in pieces. Weeping at her grim misfortune, Sansa obeyed. Days later they embarked on a ship. Sansa overheard them saying they were in Tumbleton. By the way the captain observed Sandor, Sansa knew he must have been surely quite unkind to the man. The one positive thing was that once they were in the ship and far from the border, Sandor let her remove the cape. There weren't many people on the ship and they were all taciturn and silent. Like men who had seen too many horrors to be able to speak calmly. 

 

It was only the fourth day on that boat that Arya had spoken to her again, and only to say the silliest things.

 

“Do you believe someone would save us and take us to safety up to this point? He could have abandoned us... Do you believe that someone could call him a coward if he did?” Sansa asked her quiet sister.

 

“He is only following Aunt Lyanna's orders, he fears her,” insisted Arya stubbornly.

 

“Why would he fear a dead woman?” Asked Sansa without thinking, Arya was terribly upset at her words.

 

However Arya sat and looked at her sword. “He killed Micah.”

 

Sansa exhaled, she understood that Arya couldn't forgive Sandor for that. Sansa had gone to the Vale alone, but when her letters stopped being replied to she had returned to Winterfell. It had only for a couple of days, and then she went back to the Vale, only this time Arya had been sent with her. But Arya never wanted to spend time with Sansa. She played with a butcher's son instead. Robyn hadn't appreciated being abandoned by his cousins, and since he couldn't hurt Loras Tyrell, the one that was distracting Sansa, he had to hurt the other. “He was following Robin's orders.” 

 

“And I am supposed to forgive him for that? For being a dog?” Spat Arya furiously at her.

 

“I can't tell you to do that. It was gruesome. But now he's saving us because he wanted to. He went to save me, he told Aunt Lyanna. I heard him. He knew we had no chance to survive. We had to leave... Aunt Lyanna wanted it.” 

 

They stood quiet for a while. The breeze off the river was becoming warmer. Maybe they were heading south.

 

“Do you believe mother is still alive?” Whispered Arya, as if exposing her fears in a louder tone was wrong.

 

“I hope so,” prayed Sansa. Her mother had left them one day before the catastrophe, saying she needed to leave to Winterfell. She had heard news of Brandon suffering an accident. She had hugged and kissed both daughters and disappeared into the snow. The weather was horrible, but Lady Catelyn Stark couldn't care less. Her son needed her. At that moment Sansa had been annoyed, but now she was thankful that her mother was away, safe from danger. Or so she hoped. 

 

“Aunt Lyanna is strong…” ventured Arya.

 

 _Not that strong,_ thought Sansa. 

 

“They might have escaped. Jon has been practicing, he can beat anyone.” Arya needed to hope, needed to believe her family wasn't completely dead.

 

 _She's dead Arya. So is Jon_. Yet Sansa only nodded and looked through the window. Understanding her sister wasn't easy for Sansa, it had never been. Even so, in this moment she was tired of fighting. A part of her feared that Arya was her only family, at least for as long as they needed to hide. Arya could be reckless, difficult and unladylike, but she had always been honest. Only now could Sansa appreciate that about her sister. Arya wouldn't have fooled Sansa into marrying a man that loved another, this much she knew. 

 

“I will kill them, all of those creatures. I will kill them. All of them.” Looking at her sister's deranged face, Sansa could almost believe her.

 

Arya said it many times, even when she slept. She had even given them names: _blond-witch, dark-haired witch, tall ghost_ , and many others. Mostly she called them _the_ _cold ones,_ and kept mumbling to herself gruesome ways in which she would eliminate them. The only thing that Sansa could think about was all the people she had lost. Margaery... she hadn't escaped with them. Where was she when the chaos exploded in the castle? Mayhaps she hadn't been honest with Sansa, but she still didn't want her good-sister dead. Was Loras still alive? Would he think she, his wife, was dead? Would he attempt to revenge her as he had revenged Renly? At least because it was what a knight would do, even if not for love. Or would he be relieved? What about her maids? Were they dead? Were they all dead?

 

The ship stopped in some ports. Some men left, new men embarked. She heard them discuss their version of the events in King's Landing's. Some believed Stannis had never died and was actually behind the attack. Other said that ghosts had come, while others even said that dragons had been involved. That was the most ridiculous of all the theories. Those creatures were far from warm, that much she knew. In fact, the night they attacked had been the coldest one Sansa could remember. Yet the piece of news that saddened the most had been that her father forces had fallen in Dorne. Many mentioned another massacre, similar to the one observed in the Vale. Sansa prayed every night that those men were wrong, that it was another part of the many exaggerations they told each other. Those men disembarked soon and no more talk about Dorne was done. 

 

Sansa never told Arya about it, it could be lies. It had been in vain. Arya had heard, it was obvious as the little girl remained taciturn and sad for a week at least. Some nights she wept in her sleep. Sansa had seen Arya’s troubled sleep and it only made her want to cry, but she didn't try to hug her sister. Arya never liked when Sansa noticed she had cried. Would she appreciate it now? Would she prefer to be comforted? Every night Arya cried, Sansa thought about hugging her sister and soothing one another, but every time she only re-arranged her sister's sheet and cried alone. 

 

Days and nights went by. Sansa couldn't tell how many days had passed when they finally reached open sea, and how many days after that before they arrived in Old Town. There they finally disembarked and, after some hours of asking for directions and walking, they reached their destination.

 

It was the house of a Maester, though the man that opened the door observed at Sandor suspiciously. Once he heard who they came to see he seemed to relax. Maester Sam was a fat, calm, and not even old man. In fact, he seemed too young to be a Maester. 

 

Sandor told the benevolent Maester about the attack on King's Landing's. Sansa closed her eyes, horrified at having to hear about it again. At some point she observed Arya, but Arya was too focused on the Maester's face to notice her sister's discomfort. She observed him as if challenging him to be afraid.

 

Only then did Sansa dare to observe the man herself. He seemed to be extremely distressed.

 

“If what you are saying is true... then... they are back.... then... did you say it was extremely cold that night? It had been strangely cold in unusual areas lately... _winter is coming_.”

 

“What do you mean, _they_? You know about them?” An infuriated Arya asked eagerly. “If you did, why didn't you do something about it? Why didn't you say it to the King?”

 

“I... we tried. There has been a lot of reluctance from some groups to accept my, _our_ , theory. Many doubted it could be, which is understandable I suppose. Perhaps now they will. And have there been other survivors?”

 

“No,” answered Sandor. “Only us.”

 

Arya flinched but remained silent.

 

“That won't be enough to convince them, two girls and a soldier of ill repute.”

 

“Then I will cut their throats,” menaced Arya, and by the tone she used Sansa truly believed her.

 

“No dear, that wouldn't do. We need to gather evidence. Like this, see,” and the man showed them an old book. He opened a page and showed them the contents. However they couldn't understand one word, it was written in a strange language. Unlike them, Sandor didn't even pretend to look. “Oh, true this book is old but useful. It's good that someone 50 years ago decided to rewrite it, it's contents would have been lost otherwise.” Said Maester Sam once he noticed his mistake, “you see here, it explains about these creatures. They bring winter, and then in here,” said he while turning some pages. “In here it says how one can kill them, with _dragon glass._ ”

 

“And what the fuck is that?” Questioned Sandor.

 

Sansa gasped and the Maester blinked at Sandor's rudeness, but neither Sandor nor Arya cared about their reaction.

 

“It's a... we believe it might be a specific type of metal,” mumbled the Maester.

 

“That information is so fucking useless I could burn that book of yours, it says nothing,” growled Sandor.

 

“But it does help,” squeaked the Maester, holding his book as if it needed protection. “It's probably a particular type of metal formerly used. I have two theories, one that it might be darker in nature, as insinuated in here, or it might be that it's Valyrian steel.”

 

“There aren't many blades made of Valyrian steel anymore, where are we going to find them?” Asked Sandor.

 

“Well, I've written to many maesters of different houses. It might be possible that some of these houses possess a couple of blades in that material. And about the other material, the obsidian, members of my Legion...”

 

“Legion?” asked Arya

 

“Yes, I am a member of the Black Legion. The last maester died some years ago and so they sent me here to learn. And as I was saying, in the Black Legion, we have been fighting against these creatures for centuries.”

 

“So you have seen them? Isn't that proof enough?” Asked Arya

 

“Not in reality, we haven't seen them in ages. It is written in our reports though, very detailed stories about how we fought them off. Some battles took days and some even months. You wouldn't believe-” Sandor grunted, the Maester coughed at the interruption, and then continued slightly flustered. “But we suspected, well there were some strange reports, and sometimes, when it was particularly cold, some strange men would attack us. They were more monster than men actually. In any case, we're never taken seriously. Our army is composed by all those whom society has rejected,” he finished apologetically.

 

“Nobody believes in despicable men,” said Sandor, knowingly. Maester Sam nodded and Sansa felt sorry for him. For both of them.

 

“It must be the reason Lady Lyanna sent you to me. I am the only one who has been vocal regarding the issue, but I'm also ignored for the most part. No one will find you in this house, no one will think you would come to me.” 

 

They remained silent for some minutes until Arya spoke. “What are they called, these creatures. Do they have a name in your books?”

 

“They have many names. In the past they have been called White Walkers, but the latest book I read about them called them something else, it named them Vampires.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tons of hugs and cakes to you for reading up to this point (recently it was my birthday so I do have cake around). Now that you are here, care to leave a comment? Thanks to anyone who reads and comment on this, hope you are still interested.


	25. An enraged queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime tries to deal with Brienne in her most difficult time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am deeply sorry for how much it took me to post this. Life happened, I traveled and just didn't have the time or energy to continue this. Plus season 4 happened and so much disappointment followed that I wasn't inspired for a while. Seriously, after that ridiculous OOC chapter I wont even mention, my new pie recipe book was more enjoyable. Oh well, we still have the books. As always, all praise and thanks to glorious H3L for her time, patience and dedication in making this something readable.

At the beginning there was fear,  a fear of several natures. One  of a trans gression,  and  then another was an  anxiousness stemming from how irreparable the damage of that  trans gression was. Later came the fear of discovery by humans, due to the irascible nature of Brienne's attack s , but that was soon discarded as he considered the pace of her assaults. In the confusion of the fight it took him longer than it normally would, yet he found a pattern in her attacks. She would drink their blood, yes, but only of some of them. The others she dismissed entirely unless they tried to attack her. If they committed such folly, she simply pierced their hearts with Oathkeeper. 

 

The first time he witnessed her doing it, she threw herself against a vampire that was launching its attack. She eluded his claws easily with impressive fluidity and assaulted his chest viciously,  piercing it with her fangs. She sucked so hard and fast the creature lost its strength in a  less than a  heartbeat. While she was still feeding on the fainting creature, another crawled behind her. Jaime had become desperate  to help her, yet he was not nearby and engaged in a fight with two of the four  assailants . As he slay one he saw in his periphery how Brienne extended one arm in a mechanical manner, piercing that  crawling creature's heart without halting her feeding. 

 

It had all started that fated night, the night Cersei came back. He was coming from the woods after chasing the ghouls away, but a strange and familiar smell dragged him to that clearing. He saw Brienne launching a desperate attack against the many foes that were surrounding her. He also saw the one directing  the vampires and ghouls that attacked the fledgling . Cersei. She was standing proud on top of several corpses, a throne  death . Her finger was pointing contemptuously at Brienne, as if she were indicating a particularly annoying stain on her tapestry that needed to be removed, and she was laughing. His  once  golden sister looked deranged. Jaime felt that had his heart still be en one that could beat, it would have constricted in his chest or simply broke at the sight of her . Cersei was beautiful  still,  but as mad as the king she had so detested. When had she become so  wild ? How could he not see? Yet there was no time for idle mussing, he had to save Brienne.  HE moved quickly, as only his kind can, but by the time he reached her Brienne had  deftly slayed those creatures  that harried her.  There was no sign of Cersei but her lingering ghost . Brienne  was furious and silent, not say ing a word to him when he arrived nor when he attempted to engage her in conversation and assess her wounds . 

 

Jaime thought she was just frustrated , and would soon be speaking , but he noticed  quickly  she wasn't behaving as her usual self. As a dog she was s niffing the deceased, and then  she took off at a sprint towards the woods that even he had to work to keep up with . For days she ran, occasionally slaying ghouls and vampires, only those that attacked her and even then only a select few . She never spoke to him. He truly feared she  was lost to him, his brother’s stories of ghouls and monster haunting Jaime’s memory, until he noticed the pattern.

 

The fact that there was a pattern meant that somewhere inside her there was still a conscience , still a working mind that could reason . He just needed to find the way to bring that conscience back to the surface , a way to reign in the beast . Jaime was buoyed by the thought and tried many ways to bring her back to him. He tried talking again ,  telling her stories of his long life.  He showed her books of her favorite stories,  ones he knew she adored from the way he had heard her speak of them. He  talked to her about her father, who was surely very worried about his only heir disappearing. All this he did to no effect. He tried singing, tried caressing.  He kissed her lovingly and then  again with a more  feral bite. He tried to whisper  in her ear,  attempting to coax out the merest blush, and  when that failed he tried sparring.  He fought her but  received no reaction whatsoever. 

 

Later, when he heard rumors  mentioning the Queen she had sworn to protect, and that according to some accounts seemed to have vanished after a terrible attack in King's Landing,  he tried to mention Sansa . He spared  Brienne no detail of the apparently gruesome affair with the hope that Brienne  and her sense of valor and chivalry  would re spond to her friend’s apparent need, but she was so focused on her mission she wouldn't deviate from  her mindless pattern of behavior . She simply avoid ed him whenever he was in front of her,  stepping around him easily with her long, pale legs . His presence wasn't a problem  apparently, he seemed little more than an annoyance to her .  He had gone from being her antagonist, to her forbidden savior, to her lover, and ended as a mere mosquito to her.  Nevertheless, Jaime knew that sooner or later he would find a way to return her to her self . He had seen  something like  this before,  though it had not been entirely the same it had been eerily similar.  Cersei had come back to herself, once she had left a bloody swath across the land that had extinguished lives beyond count .  Whereas Brienne seemed to attack only those who threatened her, of which there seemed to be little shortage thanks to his sister, Cersei had attacked and ripped apart sexual predators. Rapists. She had prowled alleys and brothels, back roads and all the dark places of the world in search for men to quench her thirst.

 

Brienne was following a particular path as well and it made Jaime think that unless he managed to wake her from her trance, she would become herself  on her own as Cersei had. She just had to find what ever it was  that was  waiting for her at the end of that path.  He feared that he already knew what she searched for when she ran, not some nameless assailant or vicious miscreant, no.  Brienne was hunting,  hunting Cersei. She only cared about those who had at least a flair of Cersei's perfume on them, the rest  were  nothing to her. They could attack her all they wanted, she would only react if they were  i n her way. 

 

Her eyes were not those of a beast, they didn't lack intelligence. No. They seemed extremely focused and angry.  It was a look of pure  rage  that held her tongue no matter how he tried to bate her into speaking with him .  It was too much like Cersei, truly , as she had been those days after the Dragon Lady left them.  Jaime was worried how long he would have to chase after her, pro t ect her.  Would Brienne remain in that state for years as  Cersei had ? Was that the normal process? If only Jaime could look for his brother, to talk to him. Tyrion might know more, at least more than Jaime. He always seemed to know more than Jaime. Jaime was afraid of leaving Brienne alone, he was afraid of what she would do  and m ore than anything he was afraid of Brienne finding Cersei while he was away from her . He avoided thinking about  his sister , and rather focused on new ways to make his lady understand she needed to return to her senses. Cersei had more experience, she could fight, however the state in which Brienne now was gave her more strength and made her unpredictable.  He was unsure who the victor would be if the women met again, and it set him on edge.

 

Days were eaten away  by her fervor into months . With each passing day they  went further North, the wind grew colder and  the hours of sunlight  shorter. It didn't matter to them. There were less people in the cold, so less chances of Brienne hurting them accidentally. He didn't want her to have that in her conscience. Something made Jaime keep having the strange hope she would recover and might even remember everything this time. He needed to be alert. And they were confined to sleep for fewer hours, though that only meant she ha d more time to travel.

 

It wasn't easy.

 

Brienne had far more stamina than him, she would almost never rest. Only when the sun forbade her to continue walking would she  burrow into the ground or the nearest covered hovel .  He would curl around her in sleep but  in her eagerness she left their hiding place as soon as the sun set,  and  sometimes even when there was still some light. More than once, a ray of  errant day light burned her face  or  arms.  She healed well enough once she’d fed but it hurt Jaime to see her uncaringly injured. The times she sat were few, and she only seemed to be planning where to go next  and which scent  to follow. They kept heading north, fighting ghouls and vampires alike. The more they went to the north the fewer the daylight hours, so their rest time became limited as well. An unstoppable force seemed to be guiding her. Regardless of the numerous attacks they suffered , she persisted.

 

They were being targeted, it was obvious. Was this the work of Cersei? Was she sending these creatures to them?  He could think of no other who would have cause for such determination to destroy the hulking vampire he had sired.  The attack s grew sporadic and Jaime started feeling suspicious of the unusual reprieve .  He had reason to be. Cersei, if she was truly the driving force behind the vicious attempts at his and Brienne’s lives, had been gathering her strength in the North. O ne  long night they were surrounded by so many Jaime thought it might be his last day on earth. He had already stolen so many years, living as a vampire, he shouldn't have cared. 

 

But he did. 

 

He ’d never managed to tell Brienne he loved her. He had only told her about  _his affections_ towards her,  he showed her how he felt but never gave her the words she deserved to hear . Angrily, he cursed himself and with each head he removed from a body, with each creature he killed with his hands, he promised to himself he would tell her. He would manage to survive, wait until she recovered, and  he would  tell her. Jaime fought, desperately and passionately. He had to survive. All his focus was on the fight, on the bodies in font of him, on avoiding claws, fangs, punches and anything  else  aimed at him. 

 

A  veritable  legion of foes seemed to have intercepted them. So overwhelming was his concentration that when he perceived a faint and familiar scent he barely looked into the direction of it but another body  was  placed in front of him and he lost the illusive scent. Naively, he told himself he was becoming mad. There were many who served her, she wouldn't come herself. Would she? 

 

By the time he realized the truth of it, there was no one else to fight he was so exhausted not even the blood he had managed to  take from the dead was enough to fully regain his strength. Confused and tired he searched for Brienne and only when he heard a feeble cry could he see her. So far away  she was  from him, he would never reach them in time. 

 

Taena's body fell to the ground, a wound in her heart obviously caused by Oathkeeper. Brienne held Cersei by the neck,  raised up high so her feet could no longer reach the bloodied soil. 

 

_Not like this,_ he thought, his mind commanded.  _It can't end like this_ .

 

Even from afar he could see Cersei too had been pierced,  thick blood sluggishly leaked from her arms and legs. Time seemed to stretch as he ran towards them to avoid the inevitable. He could almost hear the gods laughing at him, the failed knight  who had disappointed countless, trying to save the woman he had loved from the one he now loved. There was no doubt  was cursed. Not only had he endured a life of failure and horror  but to  be forced then to  bear a life following death that was mostly miserable if not for the few bright moments with his brother, his sister, and later Brienne. 

 

Cersei  might be mad,  vicious and undeserving, but she was still his sister. He didn't want her blood on Brienne's hand s –  or  fangs for that matter. Cersei had been sweet to him once, they had shared a womb.  They had been born and reborn together. T hey might not  die  together as they once planned,  still he didn't want her to die like this. He had failed to protect her from marrying a monster, failed to protect her from that monster's attack. Since he hadn't been the knight he should have been for his sister whil st living, he should be that for her at least now. At the moment Brienne inserted her fangs in Cersei Jaime was in midflight,  he landed only when Cersei's fist stopped  beating at Brienne and fell  limply  to her side. 

 

With tenacity and energy he didn't know he still had, he pushed Brienne and took Cersei from her arms. The anger and coldness in Brienne's eyes when she turned to see him almost made Jaime lose his senses. He wasn't being reasonable, he knew it. After all of Cersei's sins, he should want to kill her, but he  coul dn't. And Brienne, innocent Brienne, she shouldn't be in this state,  in this situation.  Yet she was,  and all because of him . Her rage only increased after Jaime's intervention. She launched and he recoiled, holding Cersei's limp body close to him and praying that she could recover, praying that they would both recover. It was an odd and frenzied set of circumstances, having to dodge and shrink away from Brienne while trying to protect Cersei.

 

 _What am I doing?_ He asked himself.

 

“ _She commands you to do what she could do on her own, Jaime. She makes you believe…you two are exclusive... she lays with others”_

 

Tyrion's voice echoed in his mind and for a second he almost let Cersei's body fall,  he almost  let Brienne finish her and come back to him. Maybe this treacherous woman was the needed sacrifice to have Brienne come back to him.  Instead he pulled Cersei closer and kept dodging Brienne's attacks. Cersei could be cruel, but she was his sister.  She had been his other half for centuries and if Brienne killed her he knew very well that would be an issue for them during the rest of their  time as undead creatures . Despite his family's wickedness, he still loved them. He resented Cersei for her lies and mischief but he didn't want her dead,  not again . It wasn't fair. They had both cheated death, stolen life that wasn't theirs, they should have died on that night when he became a Kingslayer. Why should he live and love w hen Cersei could not ? She could also find love, it might even change her as it had done him . Whatever she had done, Cersei was his sister. She was family as much as Tyrion. Jaime didn't want his family to die. He didn't want this war. He didn't want Brienne to kill blood of his blood. The idea was repulsive to him. 

 

Instead of becoming tired of the relentless attack, Brienne only seemed to gather vigor as she aimed at them, grunting angrily and attacking viciously. Thinking his only choice was to escape he concentrated on his wings and tried to take flight. Unexpectedly he felt a terrible pain in his back and only when he fel t warm blood running  down his back  did he realize that his wings had been cut. Weakened he recoiled even more and looked up to see Brienne holding Oathkeeper in her arms. Unwittingly,  red tears started rolling down his cheeks and he looked down at his unresponsive sister. 

 

“Well... it does seem we will die together after all,” he whispered to Cersei. 

 

The final strike never came. Instead hands started to push him, trying to remove Cersei from his arms. He fought back and looked at Brienne. She was kneeling in front of him, Oathkeeper was in her scabbard again. It seemed like she wanted to end it with her own hands.

 

“Please, don't kill her,” he heard himself say. After all they had been through he never expected having to beg for her life.

 

Brienne seemed to doubt, but only for a second, and then she continued pushing him. She was somewhat more delicate, as if trying not to hurt him more.  He hoped against hope.

 

“Brienne, please,” he begged and placed a hand on her face. 

 

For  seconds that felt like an eternity she stopped,  but it was not an eternity. She continued trying to separate them,  gently pushing at his hands . That hint of doubt i n her big, blue eyes... it bolstered his iota of  hope, and in a desperate attempt he kissed her. Not sweetly as the first time, but hungrily, roughly, even insert ing his teeth in her lips. With body and soul he begged her to come back to him, to leave the madness behind and he put all his effort in that kiss. He thought of when they met, when he saved her, and when she saved him from the sun.  He pictured  when they danced and when they were together for the first time, and all the times after that.  At  first she fought him, Cersei’s lifeless body beneath their crashing mouths, but he grabbed her with both hands. Cersei  slid to the ground  gently . He embraced Brienne, closing the distance between their bodies, entangl ing his legs around her to make it harder for her to escape. Then she sucked him. Pain and glory filled Jaime and he almost took leave of his senses. He hadn't been bitten in a while, it had been months. Had it been a year already? And then slowly,  as her mouth filled with him,  she started to respond. Her hands held him, not with ire but with need, she opened h er mouth to him  fully  and the kiss deepened. 

 

It was glorious and hungry, yet it was his Brienne again. They held each other as if  all  life depended on it, and in a strange way it did. He hugged her, caressed her even. Then she slowly diminished the pressure on Jaime's back and he  lean ed  back  to see her. Never had recognition in those blue eyes felt  so much like triumph before.

 

Brienne seemed exhausted but she looked at him with tenderness. However it lasted  only but  little  moment , for the affection turned into suspicion. She pushed him back and looked at him questioningly. 

 

“Why?”

 

Jaime was dumbfounded. He only shook his head in confusion. Brienne grabbed her sword again and then rose to all her height, gloriously.

 

“Why did you save her? Is it because you love her?”

 

The air was growing colder, colder still than before. A human fury might be similar to fire,  their rage is hot and burning. A vampire's is made out of ice, cold and strong. 

 

“She is my sister...”

 

“She killed my king, she deserves to die,” and by the way she was holding her sword, pressing her hand to the bellward, he knew she was trying to hold her anger.

 

“Brienne... You don't know if she-”

 

“It was her!” And she pointed her sword toward the accused. “I know it was her.”

 

“You don't, you think it was her but I think I know the guilty one,” confessed Jaime. “There's one that always kills thus, and it isn't Cersei. I know Cersei hurt you, but she's not the one to blame for the death of Renly.”

 

It was a bold attempt, and dangerous, but he had to tell Brienne the truth.

 

“King Renly! He was no commoner, and you will address him as such. Who is it, then? Tell me, if it was not her, then who?” Her voice, though still enraged, seemed to regain some small amount of control.

 

“We can't look for her... we can't defeat her, my lady”

 

“Tell me, now!”

 

“I am telling you, this foe isn't one we can defeat!” He was growing angry as well. Why couldn't she forget it? Was she still in love with Renly?

 

“I said - Tell. Me. Now.” Brienne commanded him, a knight and a queen at the same time.

 

Jaime almost desisted but he shook his head. “Stubborn woman, you can't overpower her. I can't. No one that I know of can defeat this one, however much you try.”

 

“Are you lying? Inventing a powerful foe so that I spare your _sister_?” She uttered the words with purpose, fully intending to show her recognition and despise of Jaime's previous relationship with Cersei.

 

“No, I am not lying. I don't love Cersei as before, you are fool if you haven't noticed that until now. Even she has seen the truth of it, and she is a blind, mad woman,” Jaime cried, frustrated and pointing at his fallen sister.

 

Brienne's eye narrowed. “She threatened Lady Sansa's life.”

 

“Now you remember your Queen? Let me remind you that she is far from safe, if you care to know,” he spat at her.

 

That surprised her. She  suddenly became lost in her thoughts,  her voice quietly terrified when she spoke again. “My lady,” she murmured.

 

Falling to her knees, she approached Cersei, making Jaime flinch.  He was weary and still unconvinced that she would n’t try to kill his sister again. Instead, she shook her and repeatedly asked her, “what have you done to her, where is she?” 

 

“Brienne, she is unconscious, and how can she know?” Cersei could be reckless, but she couldn't be blamed for all the misery in Westeros.

 

“She did it, who else?” Brienne insisted stubbornly.

 

“Brienne listen to me, there is another, a more powerful one. You don't know her, you never met her. She is ancient-”

 

“I am no child. You don't need to invent ghosts and monsters to protect me from the real dangers of life. This woman is one of them and she has to tell me what she did to our Queen.”

 

“It could have been the other-”

 

“Stop talking about nonexistent dangers!” She replied exasperated.

 

_Yet I do exist..._ a voice, almost a caress in the wind filled the area. And it grew colder even, so cold Jaime's blood on his back froze. Even time seemed to freeze. Unexpectedly, wind brought dark clouds and very soon it became darker than before. To normal human eyes, it would have been a blinding darkness. He realized he couldn't move. It was that  ancient  fear, that  familiar  scent. As if by the mere mention of her, without even uttering her name or the name by which he called her, she felt compelled to come. 

 

_Not like this_ , he prayed. It wasn't fair to have just recovered Brienne only to lose her again.  And to be completely impotent, unable to even try and defend her,  in the horrible face of the Dragon Lady. 

 

Her scent  grew stronger, she was approaching. Slowly - as if enjoying the view. 

 

She always liked to scare her prey. Now he could hear her clothes being swayed by the winds and her  careful  steps towards them. Desperately he looked at Brienne, tried to convey to her how dire their situation was.  He beg ged her  blue eyes to keep her tongue firmly still,  to not say anything offensive. By the seriousness of her stare, it seemed she understood. But when his maker finally reached them he realized he couldn't speak. 

 

She kneeled in front of them, her purple eyes fixed on Brienne's  clear  blue ones. Brienne was not frightened, Jaime knew the look of frightened men. No, she was determined and deadly calm. The Dragon Lady’s pale curls were dancing on her face, giving her a wilder appeal. Her clothes were refined and completely white. It seemed she was trying to emulate a saint or a virgin, one that yearned for attention and worship . The only contrast was her dragon pendant, the one she never took off. His maker would have looked as a sweet woman, with those eyes and beautiful heart-shaped face, had it not been for that defiant smile of hers he so  detes ted... 

 

_This can't be the last thing that I see before I die_ , he thought miserably, and hoped she would at least spare Brienne. The threatening aura surrounding her and the fact that she had made them freeze indicated  to  him she probably w ouldn’t spare anyone in the clearing .

 

The Dragon Lady elegantly moved her hand and placed  it  tenderly on Brienne's face, a mother caressing her reckless child. She shook her head and said,“poor child, how my heart pities those as confused as you.” Jaime expected the wors t when she turned from Brienne to himself , however she only added, “the blind guiding the blind indeed...”

 

What followed was as unexpected and puzzling as her presence there. The Dragon Lady moved Brienne's hands  out  of the way and took Cersei in her arms with care. She was gentle, as if really concerned about  his mad sister’s safety and wellbeing, as if Cersei was a precious thing to her.

 

An influx of anger, dread and rage filled him. Despite his intentions he couldn't avoid Cersei being taken by yet another monster.

 

As if she had been able to read his astonished mind,  the Dragon Lady turned to him and frowned. “Have you forgotten so soon?  I thought I made it clear, all my children concern me. Particularly those that could serve me well.” She carried Cersei gently, but without effort. 

What could this woman p ossibly want from Cersei? All her eyes, minions, all her lovers were dead. Brienne had seen to it. Surely, she could  raise another army, but it would take  time . Why would Cersei be of any importance, defeated as she was now?

 

Without saying anything else the Dragon Lady rose and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are still here, then thank you very much, and if you have a minute or two to spare, please leave a comment. Comments are the best.


	26. A familiar yet unwanted face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What came after that last awakening of Brienne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really have words to express how sorry I am for taking this long to post this. However too much has happened. I moved... not only from a country but from a continent.. twice. And it hasn't been easy, all the changes, paperwork and then work itself. So well... Hopefully if you are still interested I do promise to finish this story but I can't promise I will write more after this. It has been lovely and I am very grateful for the nice people I met and for the nice comments here. Thank you for all. Also sorry but this hasn't been betaed. If anyone out there feels that they would want to help beta this until it is finally over then please contact me. Thanks a lot again and have a happy Halloween.

It had probably been half a year, perhaps more what had taken her to destroy all and each one of Cersei's minions. During those months of blinding rage, so much had happened. Monsters attacked King's Landing and, it seemed, massacred the whole population. Some accounted tales of the Queen escaping but none mentioned the Lady Lyanna. It was presumed she was dead along with all the soldiers, Mace Tyrell and every noble and peasant that once lived there. The only reason why her father had been spared was that, once Brienne had left, he seemed to recover his wish to fight and was sent with a garrison to the west. Lady Catelyn had gone to Winterfell, to take care of a diseased child, and that had spared her as well. Brienne couldn't imagine how was Lady Catelyn feeling but at least now she was with her family, or at least her remaining children.

Disturbing reports suggested that attacks were also taking place on the west, that was why her father left. Later her father heard about the massacre and tried to go back to King's Landing but kept being attacked and pushed west. That was where she found him. And also where she found the stories about the Queen escaping through the river. Jaime and her had tried to follow her tracks but it wasn't easy. Brienne tried to convince her father to search for the queen but he was stubborn, he believed that someone might have survived in King's Landing. If the attack had been anything similar to what she had seen at the Vale, she doubted anyone had survived the one in King's Landing. She had already failed Lord Renly and Lady Lyanna, she couldn't fail her father and Queen Sansa. However she was also weary of manipulating her father, if she would manage to convince him it would only be with words. Slowly, she realized that she wasn't accidentally inflicting her ideas on him anymore, and as a consequence her father was more questioning than ever. From time to time he would just scream at her “why do you look so foreign now, how is it possible?” and storm from the room, shaking his head.

Somewhere inside Brienne felt something breaking but she was tired of pretending. Even if her father would end up rejecting her the truth was better, she preferred him knowing that she was no longer human. With every questioning look, every time he left her just because he couldn't stand how strange she was, every shake of his head Brienne felt the day she should leave her father was approaching. If only to give him peace. Only the war forced Brienne to be by his side.

If only her father had another child... but alas, the gods were not giving him that however many times he changed partners.

It was still late, but she needed to find a place to rest. She hadn't seen Jaime but was sure he was fine, in any case, she would look for him the next night. After their disagreement regarding Cersei, they had fought many times but he still insisted that he wanted her and not his sister.

“You rather search for her, don't you?” she had asked Jaime for the hundredth time the other day.

“I am here, with you, am I not?” he had replied, not convincingly enough.

“Yet you wish to look for her, you want to know if she is safe, you care more about Cersei than you care about Lady Sansa” and despite her efforts to contain herself and her voice, she was starting to sound loud.

“Of course I care more about a woman that is not only my sister but that I spent more than a century with, instead of a little lady that was playing a game she was definitely going to lose at. But I am here, and let me insert this in your stubborn head, I am here exclusively for you. I don't care about Lady Sansa but I swore to you that I would be with you and that I pledge my sword to you, and I am here because I lo-”

“Don't say it, not now, don't” she rose a hand, as if raising a physical barrier that would prevent his words affecting her and she had left him there.

It wasn't the first time he had tried. He was insisting on saying that since she had come back to his senses. He tried once and again to say it to her but she felt it was forced, it must be, just something to calm her, maybe even make her forget about her plans. Otherwise, why would he try and say it when she was angry at him? Although, to be fair, most of the time they were alone they were discussing, and most of the time she was angry at him. Even then, she knew she felt it too, it was just hard for Brienne to understand why was he willing to give his life for a woman that was probably behind the massacre in King's Landing. Even if Cersei wasn't the one who had killed Renly, even if that strange creature that had managed to freeze both Jaime and Brienne herself was the one to blame for killing her king, Cersei had still threatened Lady Sansa. She could have attempted something against the Queen's life. Why would Jaime put his own life in danger for Cersei? Cersei was Jaime's sister, that much was true, but she had also been his lover. Despite all this, Brienne couldn't help but remember how he had brought her back, that kiss had been inexplicably intense and it felt like images from Jaime's mind, his feelings had been thrown to her through it, through his blood. Jaime was annoying, irritating, absurd and sometimes an enigma yet she loved him.

It was different from the day she woke up after her transformation had taken place, because she remembered everything. It had been more than hard, to watch part of herself take control over her body and just become a beacon of fury. Surprisingly, when Jaime started to beg it had given her a strange force to be able to gain power over herself and she was able to at least force herself to not hurt him. She could clearly feel the other part, the furious side, wanting to just cut him with Cersei but she managed to control it, at least in part. The drive to kill Cersei was so strong, she was unable to completely overrule that side, but once Jaime had kissed her all had changed. With all the imagery that somehow flowed into her she found a bridge where she could come back to her own body. The rage was subdued but she still couldn't forget Cersei's sins.

The sudden appearance of the Dragon Lady, as Jaime called her afterwards, gave Briene two opposite feelings. It gave her frustration and hope. Frustration because it was evident it was going to take her years to defeat this enemy, to avenge Renly because she had seen in her purple eyes and cynical smile that this was her true enemy, the real murderer. And it gave Brienne hope, because if this was the true enemy, she could be the real leader behind all the massacres, the one in the Veil and the one in King's Landing, but this wasn't completely clear either. The reason for this hope was, that in a way Brienne knew that ending Cersei's life would mean there was no future for her and Jaime. And at those moments when she had some time to think and be honest with herself, she knew she wanted a future with him. Yet she also acknowledged that if Cersei was indeed to be blamed for Lady Lyanna or Lady Sansa's deaths, then Brienne would have to kill that lioness, however much she loved Jaime.

In any case, it was time to rest, she could discuss more with Jaime later. The ruins she had seen while fighting the ghouls seemed like the ideal place. Desolated and ugly, they might even look terrifying. Nevertheless when she arrived at her chosen place, she sensed a human following her, she had to push him away. So she kept walking, pretending she did not care about these ruins. Then swiftly she moved behind a tree. The human kept on walking. She grabbed him by his collar and pushed him against a tree.

Fear soon turned into a snigger in that familiar face. But it was forced, he was trying to be brave. Even in this darkness he must know she wasn't the same little girl he had made fun of a couple of years ago.

“What a happy reunion, I wouldn't have been able to welcome you in a nicer way, Brienne”

She waited and waited, just some seconds, but anger never came. She should feel angry. Analyzing herself, it felt as if she had went to a place were there used to be a mountain of fury but now it was a desolated dessert. She felt nothing. It was as if those days when she had been the girl he had almost tricked were far, far away. After her days of rage, her past life caused nothing but a curious feeling of detachment in her.

It was almost as if it had been a story someone had told her. A story about a 15 year-old girl that had been lead to believe she could have been loved despite how ugly and unfeminine she was. The little girl had trained with Ser Godwin since she was only seven. Sometimes she joined her father in his trips, he was probably trying to teach her how to command, how to be a noble. When there was time and place she would practice with him as well. She was training with her father the first time the soldiers approached. They had waited until her father had gone to a meeting to approach her. They told her how much they admired her. The girl didn't believe them. They started sending presents to her. She didn't kept them, she gave them to the kids at the orphanage. Except for that beautiful book about chivalry that black-haired man had sent her. Slowly he gained her trust. Even these details now seemed distant, she only knew that the little girl had even practiced with him, more than once. She had not loved him, she had liked the man's company and friendship. Friendship is, after all, a kind of love. Hyle Hunt, that was his name. The little girl had even laughed with him. She felt sorry about how that girl had ended up discovering the truth. How that serious Lord Tarly had reprimanded her for distracting her men, it had been terribly cruel. A bet, it had been a bet. Lord Tarly's son had heard about it.

“An ugly thing such as herself, anybody could be able to bed her, she will probably ask for it” That's what they had said. There was no effort on Lord Tarly's part to spare the little girl of every word and every mockery his son had heard. Lord Tarly ended up with it and forbade the girl from ever going there again. Soon after she became part of the fencing club and had become so good that even Lord Tarly's men couldn't defeat her. She had defeated this one and all the others that had started the bet. But then they were gone. Sent to some other land and new men filled the regiment.

And here he was now. That same man. Killing him would be as easy as stepping on a worm. Yet there was not a single part of her body that wanted it. All the ire had vanished in such a way she felt she must have imagined it in the first place. She had seen so much horror, so much tragedy, had learned so much in these three years they had not seen each other – especially the last months – she felt he was almost a stranger.

She released him, turned and continued walking.

“Brienne, wait”

But she didn't. He was a ghost from a past that had no relationship with her anymore.

“I want to talk to you. I have a proposition for you”

“There is nothing to discuss, go back to your tent” commanding him as the subordinate he was came easy to Brienne. There was no particular anger in her voice, just coldness.

He probably interpreted her lack of interest with annoyance, for what he said afterwards.  
“Brienne, we didn't mean to hurt you, it was just to pass time... most of them are dead now, but I am sure they would have apologized if they had had the chance”

Without stopping or facing him she replied.  
“No, they wouldn't” she didn't know how she knew, but she did. It was the nature of those men, they had no consideration whatsoever towards women. Life in the military does not help any of them to get rid of such feelings of superiority. “If it was the way they enjoyed waisting their time they could have never felt the need to apologize to me. And yes, you meant to hurt me”

Even then, nothing. She felt no bitterness, no even the need to punch this liar. Had he approached her a couple of months ago she would have hit him. At this moment she had bigger problems, she had accepted that her only connection to humans life was her father and Lady Sansa, those she had sworn to protect, those she needed to find.

For some seconds he seemed too surprised to reply, he had even stopped walking. His eyes had widened and he had contained a sharp intake of breath.

So it is the truth. It had taken some time to Brienne to get used to these intensified perception of life but it had its uses. Hyle wasn't trying to fight her ideas anymore, all his body reactions told her he was surprised he had been caught in a lie. Swallowing he continued.

“Brienne, please, you have to listen-” Brienne had escaped his attempt to grab her arm, perhaps to violently. And now she faced him.

Hyle stopped abruptly and stared at her with fear. He even started to perspire. She was growing impatient and it might have been reflected in her eyes. He seemed to shrink in front of her, a mouse trapped by a lion. Her prey.

No, he is not mine to take, he does not want to die, he hasn't committed any crime, he is not that bad, I should leave him at once.

“You are... different, you have changed” he said slowly, almost afraid of continuing talking.

Brienne had to fight the urge to laugh. Poor Hyle Hunt, he probably never thought he would be frightened by a woman. However much he tried to hide it, she could perceive all, all the changes in his body that indicated how clearly terrified he was. Yet as the seconds stretched she realized there was something else that was growing in him. His stare changed and now it was more focused. His body was growing strangely hot.

“It's not just your eyes, your... nose... it is no longer broken, how?” by the end of that sentence she identified what had came upon him. It repulsed her.

Shaking her head she turned and decided that it was enough. That reaction was the one that irritated her the most. It was not the first time. There must be something in their nature. In the same way that a fly becomes attracted to a carnivorous plant, blissfully ignorant of its destiny. Or perhaps the fly knows, but the temptation is greater and the fly feels compelled to risk it's life. She avoided men as much as she could for this reason. In the past it was because of their mockery. Now it was because they always reacted thus. First they might fear her, then slowly but surely they started feeling somewhat attracted to her. It was ridiculous. She had never been a beauty. The change hadn't made her one. It had corrected some features, that was true, but that did not turn her into a Margaery Tyrell or a Catelyn Stark. Men did not behave in such primeval way even towards these ladies, why should they with her?

Because I am not a human, this is probably how we function, men are our prey and they make our hunt easier by finding us attractive

Brienne felt ancient. This discovery made her feel sorry for Hunt, for all of them. Had she been a spiteful person she could have easily ended with men like him. Men who play with women. She could make those her target, she was sure she could identify them so easily... However that was the problem, they were too easy. They would fly towards her out of their free will, surrender to her willingly. It was too much. If they had not done a real bad deed she knew they didn't deserve it. She had too much power already, and power corrupts.

“Listen” the silly man insisted “I know Lord Lannister has not kept his word, he has disgraced you but I can help you, we can wed”

“What?” she turned and examined the specimen in front of her. No, he was not lying, he was convinced he held the truth.

Her reaction encouraged him. “Everybody is saying that he has taken you, they call you the Lion's whore, he probably promised you that you would get engaged and married, so he convinced you of bedding him but he has not kept his promise. I don't care, I have lived my life as well, I am man of proven fertility, I can be a good husband. We could both benefit from this”

Gossip. He came to her due to gossip and profit. He wanted to marry her. To save her honor. She wanted to laugh. She was past saving and however fertile Hunt was there was no way he could produce any heir with Brienne. Even then, she wondered if these ideas had came to her father's ears. Was he worried about her position? However much she tried she couldn't seem to care about how they called her.

“Bring those who call me like that, we will make them fight with me, let's see what they call me afterwards” she wasn't really angry but she should try to keep her name, for her father's sake if not for hers.

She had bedded Jaime, that was true. That and much more. However human worries seemed to be so foreign to her now, her life seemed to be directed by a completely different set of rules. She had to rationalize and try to remember. She shouldn't forget about it so fast. For a lady, marriage must be important but she had no way of marrying Jaime now, they were in the middle of war. Lady Sansa had gone missing, Lady Lyanna was nowhere to be found, presumably dead, her father was fighting, King's Landing was in ruins. Brienne did not even know if she wanted to, or if Jaime wanted to. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind since she had changed. With a war, fighting the undead and finding if Cersei or other vampire had killed Lord Renly, the ghouls and much more to worry about, when were they going to celebrate such a thing? The idea seemed absurd, actually. How could they celebrate, they needed to find the Queen.

“Brienne, I don't care, if we marry they will stop”

“If I defeat them they will stop as well and no one will ever dear to speak about me in such terms again” she told him.

“But Brienne, you see-”

“You want to inherit Tarth, that is what you want”

“Well, yes in part but” he glanced at her, with badly hidden lust “I am surprised to say I do think it would be interesting, in fact my interest is higher now than when I decided to look for you, you have changed, you are a woman now, you are very different, almost an entirely different person but I can get to know you, if you give me a chance I can even make you happy. Once I would have said that in the dark you would have been as beautiful as any other woman, now I think there is no need for darkness in your bedchamber. Your lips are made for kissing”

“They are lips, any woman's lips are the same. What you want is to improve your situation, maybe claim the prize of that bet, but you are mistaken about me. Terribly mistaken. You should look for another one, a girl, a woman that can care about you and marry her. A woman whose lips want yours. I will never marry you, whatever happens” the conversation was becoming too pathetic, Brienne couldn't bare it any longer, so she turned again.

“Brienne, I really didn't mean to hurt you”

There was a change in his voice, he was almost begging. Despite how much she knew about him, she could tell he was being honest. The girl that she was once would have been slightly glad to know that he was truly sorry. It was a pity she wasn't here anymore.

“I am not giving up, you can change your mind, you will change your mind” and here he was again, his old overconfident self.

“No, she will not” a menacing voice replied only a couple of trees away.

“If my betrothed wishes to marry someone, it will be me”

Instinctively, Brienne placed herself in front of Hyle. Jaime might be more experienced but he was also more drastic and impulsive than her.

He could see that Hyle was scared again but he was fighting to keep face. He was probably planning on a witty reply, it was not a good idea.

“Didn't know we were betrothed” she needed to distract Jaime, though she doubted she could. And it was not a lie, they had never discussed this.

“I am sorry my dear, though I failed to be more traditional, in a way I always considered Oathkeeper as my engagement present for you” and Jaime smiled seductively.

“Oh” she was touched. She had never thought about it in such a way.

“I thought it suited you better”

Brienne found no words, she could only smile, a bit childishly perhaps but she couldn't help herself. Then the memory of their disagreement came to her and she stopped abruptly.

“It might be true” she mumbled, after a while.

“Whatever the case, you are still unmarried, you can change your mind, you don't need to be some lord's fool” insisted Hyle.

That had been a poor choice of words. Jaime was ready to break his neck and tear him to pieces. Before he transformed Hunt into a blood mass Brienne grabbed both of Jaime's arms and fought to keep them apart.

“No, Jaime, no” she insisted “He is harmless”

“I'll prefer him breathless” said him, still struggling to free himself from Brienne.

“Please, Jaime”

“What is he to you? Why do you defend him?”

“Jaime, calm yourself, he is just a silly man, remember that” she said whispering to him

“You were a woman when I fell for you, my dear, how can you ask me not to worry?” Jaime whispered angrily. She almost released him but recovered in time. He had never been so blunt in his declaration of love before. He had tried but only after they had had that misunderstanding, it had made her doubt his real intentions and even made her believe he was only trying to say it to calm her. At the same time she remembered he had been betrayed by a lover before, of course he was afraid.

She pushed him towards herself and embraced him tightly.

“Please Jaime, don't think of me capable of being so inconsiderate”

Jaime seemed to regain some calm with the truth of her words, and returned her embrace. “Brienne, you still have to explain to me why do you wish to spare this one's life. I heard him proposing to you, I heard his reasons and he even dared to repeat that ridiculous gossip in front of you. That enough is cause of death. Convince me”

“He is one of my father's man, we promised not to kill those, didn't we?” she replied, almost begging “And you should also remember that for your own reasons you stopped me for killing the wrong foe once” and I accepted it, or I'm trying to she thought.

At that moment she realized that the reason why Jaime had stopped her had been because to him, Brienne killing Cersei was wrong in the same way Brienne was convinced that Jaime killing this simple man would be wrong. Cersei might be dangerous while Hyle wasn't, and killing him wouldn't bring Jaime the sense of accomplishment killing Cersei would give Brienne. But she felt that in a way, this made them somehow even. Besides, the way he had professed his love to her moved her to believe him, he did love her.

Jaime seemed surprised that she would bring the subject at the moment but seemed to accept his defeat. “Fine, for now”

During their interaction Hyle had remained silent, he had even gone two steps back the moment Jaime had launched himself to attack him. He must have noticed how murderous Jaime's eyes and body looked. Brienne was the only thing that had kept him safe. As they were embracing each other and whispering he kept silent but seemed to recover once the murdering shadow left Jaime.

“I won't give up, Brienne, one day you might say yes” Hyle had the indecency of saying.

Holding Jaime closer, so as to avoid him jumping and slaying Hunt, she turned her face and said.

“It is best if you leave, give up that silly idea, follow my advice before you are sorry”

Her tone had been serious but ended up being interpreted as menacing. Confused, Hyle finally left, looking back a couple of times before disappearing into the forest.

“I think that has settled it, with or without you, now he will be too scared to ask me that again” she said, releasing Jaime.

“I wouldn't mind scaring him a bit more, just to be sure” japed Jaime.

“That is not funny, Jaime, and what was all that ridiculous thing about Oathkeeper and betrothal? You said yourself you couldn't marry me”

“I meant what I said now, Brienne, if you want to we can wed. And I did tell you that Oathkeeper was a token of my esteem. I doubt very much that you would have preferred a ring. A sword definitely suits you much better. And about not being able to marry you, that was before, when you wanted to comply with your father's orders and grant him grandchildren, now that is irrelevant, none of us is suited for the task, therefore we can forget about it and wed”

He was making her smile stupidly at him again, she almost resented him for that.

“But why now? What makes you say that?”

“So we wont have these people talking, I don't care much about them, but your father might, and also to avoid more idiots like that one wanting to marry you. Better settle this before one of them convinces you”

“Jaime...are you jealous?” she laughed this time, Jaime Lannister was jealous of Hyle Hunt of all men, it was beyond absurd.

Jaime was annoyed, “He was speaking to you as if he knew you”

“Don't let jealousy cloud your judgment, Jaime and besides if I ever marry, I rather it is because we want to” she almost regretted saying that, was she sure she wanted to wed at a moment like this? With all her doubts... and even now, that Jaime had said he loved her, would he eventually regret asking her?

“But I want to, do you want to?” he looked at her hopeful, worried and expectant.

Brienne could almost smell his fear, his insecurity. In the mist of all the absurdity her life had turned into since Jaime appeared in her life, this was probably the peak of it. A gloriously beautiful man was asking her to wed him. And he feared she would reject him. She. The ugliest woman that had ever walked the earth.

“Are you absolutely sure you want to? Isn't this just jealousy, some excuse because now you can't have Cer-”

“No, it is not an excuse, stubborn woman, it is not, and I am not out there looking for Cersei, I am here, with you, desperately wanting to convince you that I love you and that I want to be with you, not someone else” Jaime looked like if would start crying at any moment.

So she hadn't been wrong when she believed him. He did indeed love her. It was obvious, not only in his voice but in all that aura of fear that surrounded him now. He was genuinely afraid of her rejection.

“Well, I am here with you, I haven't run to find Hyle and accept him, isn't that enough for you?” she said, mostly teasing now but Jaime was fuming at the mere mention of that name.

“Will you wed me? Do you want me or not?” he said, and looked at her as if dreading she was going to give him a death sentence.

“I do” she finally said, and Jaime's face illuminated. Before allowing herself to smile too much she told him “Let's leave this silliness behind us, I found a suitable place, I think, for us this night”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a lot for reading up to this part. If you have any ideas, suggestions, anything, please leave a comment down here. Thanks again and happy Halloween! May you receive a lot of candies, chocolate and maybe even be scared a bit :D


	27. A confident man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically the same as before from another point of view

Whether it was her posture, her strikes or the grace in them, he couldn't quite point it out. This was not the same innocent little girl he had once known. Comments about her where roaming about. As soon as comments on her killing abilities reached the comments about her lack of purity vanished. The amount of people that feared her were far greater than the amount that despised her, and the later was a shrinking group.

 

What if she had really become that ferocious?

 

But he was too confident to believe that, he had to try. She had been wooed once, she could be wooed again. He was far more experienced than her. He did not give credit to the ideas of the Lord Lannister taking her virtue, and even if he had he was probably never going to marry her so it was even better for him. A disgraced noblewoman would be grateful to be rescued from ridicule.

 

As she reached the ruins she turned and seemed to examine it briefly. It were mere seconds and then she continued into the forest. Further and further. There seemed to be no end to her journey. He was growing tired of following her and was about to call her when she suddenly disappeared.

 

He blinked, confused. The woods were quiet, he only heard the wind, and the crumbling of the pine needles as he kept walking, carefully. Without warning he was effortlessly grabbed and pressed against a tree. Involuntarily, he closed his eyes but when he opened he saw that it was her. He could not distinguish her features clearly. Except... her eyes. They were... somehow bright, too bright, almost like those of an animal. Bluer than he remembered. He would have sworn she was paler as well.

 

_She is going to kill me_

 

The thought crossed his mind and for some reason he couldn't tell he was sure she could. But the though dissipated slightly when her eyes indicated that she did not want that. He couldn't know how he knew, he just knew.

 

He forced himself to say something, to show her he did not fear her. She let him go. And he insisted, following her he told her why he came. He even apologized, lied about how the other would have apologized as well. But she wouldn't listen. Brienne knew better. She cut through his lies like if they had been an enemy. So she had grown up. He should have expected it. She was not a common woman, she preferred swords to dresses after all.

 

In a desperate attempt to make her listen he tried to force her to stay by grabbing her arm. The way her arm snaked away from his grasp was not natural. It was almost as if she had anticipated his movement and now she finally faced him.

 

A sudden change came upon him. This was not Brienne, not at all. She was as tall and muscular, yes, her hair was as messy as always, perhaps a little longer and nicer than he remembered even. She use to wear her hair very very short. Now it was almost reaching her shoulders. But she was paler, her nose was no longer broken and though he hadn't touched it he could tell that her skin was as soft as silk. Her mouth was still large, but her lips were redder now. Something else made her appealing, something he did not understand, there was a sort of wildness about her. Yes, there was definitely something odd going on. But at the moment he couldn't help but feel he wanted her. His initial idea had been to marry her for her lands but now he could see this could become an enjoyable experience after all. Candles didn't need to be extinguished if he was to marry her, quite the opposite.

 

He couldn't help himself and started babling about how different she looked. This was a poor decision since she immediately shook her head and turned around.

 

As she did her hair moved and he could see her neck. It was majestic. Pale, beautiful, so tantalizing. The need to kiss it became so urgent he could not think properly, he ended up saying the gossip. He was incredibly happy when she turned. He continued talking, even told her what they were calling her. Anything to make her stay. The Lion's whore. That's what they called her. They had nicknamed him Lion due to his coat of arms and how he frighted them in combat. Not many had seemed him fight, some said he did not even used a weapon, he just killed men with his bare hands, he  _hunted_  them. Rumors indicated that they were engaged, but that the Lion had already bedded the Maid of Tarth. Thus she had become the Lion's whore. Of course. Even when this was a dying rumor, it served its purpose and made Brienne turn again to face him. He was rejoiced again by looking at her. Just imagining her strong arms pressing him against a tree again made him grow hard. He didn't care if she had bedded the stupid Lannister or not. In fact it was better in that way. If she was experienced now it would only be more enjoyable for both of them. If she was experienced, then she wouldn't be shy and he could take her in more varied ways. He imagined her naked and with her back on the floor, legs spread wide and him pressing inside her, deeper and both of them moaning in pleasure, then he imagined taking her from behind, then her over him, and so much more. He had to have her.

 

Of course she reacted by indicating she would challenge those who spoke ill words against her. That was the sort of woman she was. He kept insisting on marrying her and she kept insisting on fighting the gossipers. Until she cut through his facade again, she knew he only wanted her lands. There was no point in denying it, she knew him too well. So he admitted it, but at the same time he admitted he actually wanted her. It had been the wrong decision again. It only made her remember about the bet and insist on him looking somewhere else. But at the same time he could perceive she was feeling... sorry? Sorry for him? Why would she? Brienne had expressed few emotions to him. He thought that at the allusion of candles and bedchambers she would blush but she hadn't. She was just shoving him away, as a person would a dog that was asking for attention. He had a hard time believing how little he affected her. She used to be so vulnerable.

 

 _War make monsters of us all_. He had heard that before, some drunken soldier had said it to him. A man who loved to fight using fire. She had changed too much, so much she did not seem to be part of them, the soldiers. Once he thought she could be a soldier, had she been born a man. Now, she seemed separated from them all. His mind could not process the thought, he could not accept it.

 

She had probably seen too much horror and was now insensitive. It happened to some, Yes, that must be it. In any case, he had to get to her.

 

“Brienne, I really didn't mean to hurt you” he meant it. She stopped again, but did not face him. He felt encouraged anyway, told her he was not going to give her up, one day she was going to take him. “I am not giving up, you can change your mind, you will change your mind”

 

“No, she will not” the voice that resonated through the forest was one with clearly murderous intentions. However that was nothing compared to the moment the man appeared. The forest grew colder. He emanated anger. That creature was the emissary of death.

He had to force himself not to soil his pants. There was no doubt, he was going to die at that moment.

 

Hyle could not explain himself what occurred next. Without him noticing Brienne was in front of him at the exact moment death had launched towards him. They struggled and spoke in low voices. It was somehow very terrifying to observe. Unnatural. That was the only way he could describe it. How fast they moved, the strength they emanated and how cold it had all became. He needed to leave, to run, forget about this stupid idea. He was still alive, wasn't he? Probably his only virtue if he was going to listen to what others say. He should appreciate his only virtue.

 

But he couldn't move. He was rooted there. Observing these two struggling. Then, unexpectedly Brienne embraced Lord Lannister and he hugged her soon afterwards. He felt separated from them, as if he was intruding into something private. And since when did he respected other's privacy? He seemed to awake and remember what he came here for. He came for Brienne. It did not matter what this man said, Brienne was still unmarried. So he voiced his intentions once more. Brienne hardened her grip on the man but he could see that the murderous intent had returned and it made Hyle step back. What really convinced him he should leave, was Brienne's voice. She was warning him. Telling him he could be sorry.

 

Lands, and island, a castle, how can a dead man enjoy that?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for the comments and kudos, sorry for being slow and if you are interested in being a beta let me know. Hugs to all comments and kudos and all that are still reading this


	28. Queen you shall be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened to Cersei after she was taken

A queen

I was born to be a queen. It was obvious even to that ridiculous woman that called herself a seer, a witch. It was the way it was meant to be. It was my future and my right. I was raised to be a lady but inside there was a fire not all wanted to see. It was my destiny that called me to rule. Even if power eluded me due to my condition as a woman I knew I was made to rule. It was so obvious I had accepted it as a truth that one day would become reality, I just needed to find the right time. And I became queen finally. However it was not as it was supposed to be. It was not glorious nor magnificent. It was humiliating and terrible and I lost my hearth because of it.

Not only was I devastated but I was also robbed of my final moment of grandeur. I was supposed to become a ruler, to demand my right and become what I was prepared to be all my life. Why should that old, decrepit monster they called king have all the honor, why wouldn't they listen to me? I was ready, I was prepared. I understood politics and strategy. I understood treason and manipulation. My opinions did not matter, not even my reluctance to be with him, nothing of what I wanted became a reality. And my children...

When I was given a new chance, this time with my own power I knew I could be a ruler. Even if the only option to rule the undead. So much had been taken from me. My mother, my prince, my destiny, my own hearth. Why had I been lied so? Wasn't I beautiful, from a noble family, married to a king? Wasn't I supposed to be loved by my husband, my people, at least my father? Wasn't that what songs said? Wasn't that what tales said? Why didi they fed me so many lies? I was only loved by myself and Jaime, that was – I thought at that time – just the same as loving myself, because he was me. Even him, even Jaime was the taken from me. Even when I was so patient, even when I waited and waited and waited for him to remember, to remember what I had lost, what we had lost. But there was nothing, he could not seem to remember and my frustration turned into anger and slowly we were drifting apart. It was never my intention to drive him away, despite my anger I wanted Jaime to stay by my side. He was the only thing I had left from them. The only thing that was left from my heart.

I made my army out of lovers, servants and their servants. In order to rule it was necessary that I had an army, that I had people, even if most of them were not even alive.

Finally I was becoming the queen I was supposed to be. Finally I was going to show them all how magnificent I truly am.

Had I been told before, that that simpleton of a woman alone was going to be my ruin and my demise I would have laugh. That thought couldn't ever cross my mind. I was powerful, rich, strong. How could an ugly wench ever defeat a golden queen? A natural born ruler like me, defeated by the most hideous creature that ever walked the earth? It was not conceivable. Not only that, it was aberrant. Agains natural laws. Yet there I was, conquered and about to be killed by that creature my brother had taking a fancy of. What he saw in Brienne was a mystery to me. To me, living me for that pathetic entity was just further roof of how wrong I had been about him. How could he, a part of me, betray me so and for someone so inferior like her. She was simple not only in looks but in character. A mistake of nature, a woman that was not aware of her own place and decided to take men clothes and foolishly persist in behaving like one. A being so repulsive she was still unmarried at age 17. Who could have wanted her? She was everything that a woman is not supposed to be. How could she defy and deny her womanhood? How was she allowed when I, a queen, was not? How could that creature have such liberty? She was ungraceful, ugly, awkward, with a face that should be receiving spit instead of my brother's kisses. I wanted to crush her since I first lay eyes on her.

How ironic, the one being crushed now was me, by her. And how absurd that my brother had decided to spare me at this moment, after he had betrayed me so. Yet the monstrous girl persisted. Vaguely I felt them struggling until time seemed to freeze. Then I felt her... our “mother”. That Targaryen witch. I felt myself flying, felt the wind, the snow, then smelled wet soil, grass. It seemed I was travelling quite fast.Of course, she is after all the strongest of them all.

I couldn't fathom what she could possibly want for me and I was too weak to fight her off. It is quite possible that I wouldn't have been able to fight her off even if I had had all my strength in me. I was not ready for her yet. At some point I would have been, but I knew that moment was not still at my reach. I needed more time.

However it seemed that I was not going to be given more time. The Dragon Lady was mysterious yet relentless. She was cunning and terrible with a hint of madness typical of the Targaryen. Of course she knew what I was doing, raising an army of undead, taking control of such an extended group of both living and dead. Though she seemed to have saved me I did not – even in that confused state I was – thought that she was going to spare me.

Quite likely I was just going to be used as an example. Maybe she was preparing an event where I would be punished so awfully no one would eve dare to attempt what I did again. She was going to use me as an example. No one should defy the empress.

I knew it since the moment she stopped that awful cow from killing me. Brienne would have at least been quick, according to what I saw of her she killed everyone switfly. I was not going to be that lucky now.

The cave where the Dragon lady took me to was humid and cold. It did not bother me. What bothered me is that I felt the many undead that were there. Yet I could not move a finger however much I trie. I was exhausted and utterly defeated. If at least I could open my lids to let them see my hatred through my eyes. However much they hurt me I was not going to cry or beg for mercy.

Strangely, I was not taken to an altar or dismembered that day. In fact, it seemed that many hours had passed and I was still on that humid rock.

Then I felt it.

Liquid life in my lips. Ravenously, I drank, holding the source of blood so strongly that they would not have been able to remove myself from it. One, then two, even a third body was given to me. My hunger was such I did not even try and see what the life of those men had been like, it was like an annoying buzz that I tried to avoid. Whatever they felt as they life dissappear, even their fears and evil deeds or their pleas for forgiveness. Nothing mattered. I just wanted their blood. So great was my desperation that I completely disregarded the conversation that was happening between that Targaryen bitch and a voice I am sure I knew.

“Always the hungriest of them. The most ambitious too. She pretended yet I knew” she said.

“Oh no, my queen Cersei never pretended, she is not made for pretensions, she is fire and she is direct, she is a golden creature, even now in this state” he replied.

Finally I opened my eyes. I was strong once more and I wanted to see. Still, after all these years I believed my eyes better. Specially now, that I did not want to hope in vain. I had to see if it was him, if my ears had not been wrong about that walk, that poise, that voice, if my nose had made tricks on me by confusing some other with his particular smell.

What I saw was his radiant smile, his olive skin, thin eyebrows, and lustrous black hair. A face that could melt ice and weaken legs, both from men and women.

“Welcome my child” said the Dragon Lady. I ignored her.

She could be playing with me, she could be pretending yet she didn't need to. Nevertheless, him being here made it all different somehow. I knew he was not stronger than her, yet I knew he cared for me. And why would he call me queen in front of her unless he knew that did not entail any danger? He was mischievous and quick witted yet not an idiot. He would not have annoyed her on purpose. Did it meant I was going to be spared? For some reason I felt grateful and hopeful only by looking at him.

“Welcome, dear Cersei” Oberyn said.

And I knew I was going to survive once more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is another chapter, thanks for reading and commenting, you are all quite lovely. Sorry again for this delay but I am afraid I wont be able to write any faster. Life happens. However I do promise to finish this story. I do not have a beta though so if you feel like you want to help let me know. Hugs!


	29. An afflicted father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding he had always waiting for turns unexpectedly sour.

It came shattering one day, unexpectedly. All of it. All of what she had been, and it became clear to me then that she was not my sweet Brienne anymore. That she had not been for a while. She was a stranger. Not even worthy of the title “human”. It is absurd, what I think, and I know it, yet I fear my child is no longer here.

I had lost all my children.

Part of me did not accept this, and mostly I lived in denial. She was the last one, the only one left of all my children, the last memory of my wife...

In character and even in most of her aspect it was still Brienne. She was still loyal and true, but her complexion... Why was she now so pale? And what had happened to her nose? In my life I have never seen such readjustment of a broken nose. It was not possible, not natural. Though I felt like crying I still had no dead body over which I should cry.

In all appearances, she was still here. Alive somehow. Still my honest child, still a warrior with a tender heart.

I avoided her because seeing her in that state, not dead yet not entirely a normal human, made me sick. Made me worry and fear my duty.

My duty was to eradicate those creatures, to find our Queen and recover King's Landing. Yet I feared what I suspected. Avoided thinking about Brienne, about what could she be, if not human. My mind drifted to these thoughts at night and I could barely sleep whenever the doubt came. Because there was almost no doub. We had been fighting these pale creature for too long. We had seen them for days, months. We knew them, we could identify them easily now. Thought their appearance resembled that of us, they were different. They were monsters. Death.

I knew very well what I should do yet I could not bring myself to do it.

Whether it was fortunately or unfortunately, it seemed I was the only one with these concerns. No men came to complain about my daughter, and I did not hear any fears regarding her even when walking on soldiers discussing.

When she came to me with Lord Lannister, telling me of the news I had waited for so long, I felt empty. Neither happy nor sad. Simply empty. Nevertheless I gave her my blessings, both of them. Hoped beyond hope that Lord Lannister will forgive me for being untrue. I had pretended I was just a father giving away his daughter, even when I knew that creature was not really my Brienne. Even then I knew that some of her must be still there, but it was still an aberration. A false creature.

They married two weeks after that, the ceremony was simple. We were at war after all and still tracing any trail that could lead us to our Queen.

Earlier that night I was worried, considering Lord Lannister looked so grave. I dreaded that the charade had been broken, that he had discovered the truth and would call the wedding off. My fears were unfounded, he was glowing radiantly when he saw my daughter – or what is left of her – walking towards him. She did not wear a dress, I was not expecting her to do so. Not even when she was alive. My Brienne always detested gowns. At some point I had entertained the idea of ordering a gown for her, something proper for a Lady, but I could not delude myself enough to be so untrue.

Even then, she was also, in a way, radiant. Anyone could see they loved each other. I should have been glad, or sad that my girl was finally being wedded. I should be celebrating, hugging her and her husband. Yet I only felt impatience, and a wish that the farce would be over soon, so that we could continue our search.

They said their vows and then soldiers and some peasants celebrated my heir's wedding. I felt in no mood for such festivity. Yet my men insisted I joined them at their table. I felt I should not disturb them or better, I should avoid them suspecting. Therefore I joined them. Evidently, soldiers welcomed the leisure and the ale.

While my men laughed, drunk and ate, my eyes were stuck on the recently wedded couple. There seemed to be no sign of awareness in Lord Lannister, it seemed he still saw her as Brienne.

He was happy yet seemed somehow weary.

At some point he will notice. It was a matter of time. Then I would have to take charge... I would have to eliminate the menace. My heart shrunk with the thought and my eyes burned. My child, my only child... When did she turn into this abomination? Into this fiend of humanity? Why couldn't she be spared, at least this child?

Unable to continue this mummery, I decided to take my leave. Precisely at that time the festivity was interrupted by an unexpected arrival. Mounted in his regal horse, covered in blood and looking wild our King joined us.

There was commotion as friends among the newcomers and my men hugged each other and celebrated finding other living creatures.

The King's voice was grave and strict. Never had he sound more serious. He commanded silence and we obeyed.

He looked at the wedded couple and I felt a knot in my stomach. Because there was not only graveness in those eyes but contempt.

“What is this farce, this treason?” King Loras said to my daughter.

“Your highness?” she replied in confusion.

“This” King Loras moved his hand, signalling the feast “Pray tell me, since when do we have time to celebrate, in the middle of a war”

“My Lord, I believe that there is some confusion, this is only a modest feast, to celebrate my wedding to the Lady of Tarth” Lord Lannister said, barely able to contain his rage.

The king's eyes narrowed and his nose widened, one could imagine flares leaving them.

“Forgive me gentlemen, yet it was my believe we were fighting the white creatures not celebrating them” the King replied. It seemed to me, that the air grew denser and colder at his words.

“Will you deny, then, _Lady Brienne_ , that you are known as one of the fastest killers among many soldiers that surpass you in age and experience, that no one seems to remember seeing you during the daylight yet seem to accept that as normal? Strange and perturbing rumors have reached me regarding you, my lady, would you care to explain?”

Every set of eyes were now on her and I could see in her, the little girl I had seen growing up. Despite her strength and years, she seemed to shrink in that chair. Lord Lannister was the only one who seemed to still remain by her side, he looked at the king defiantly and held my daughter's hand in his.

Finally she stood up.

“Your highness, I am your subject, if you find any faults in me, in my service, I beg of you to inform me so that I can correct it.” was her reply

“Then explain why have I been told that you are one of my strongest soldiers, you, a woman” the King commanded.

“I owe it to the trained received by Ser Godwin, thanks to my father and to my now husband Ser Jaime, who helped me refine several skills” Brienne replied.

The king was unconvinced. “Now explain” he said carefully “why is it that you are only seen at night?”.

I swallowed and Brienne looked helplessly to the king wit a silence that shouted the truth that was now evident to all of us.

“Your highness, I believe you are sadly misinformed. My lady and I usually spend our mornings in search for potential foes, and only come once we have made sure we eliminated a few. It is quite possible that our contribution have saved your men from further losses” Lord Lannister said, as charmingly as he could possibly say it. And for a moment, I believed him. I think that with those few words, the mood of the soldiers immediately changed. Of course! They said. That is why, it was obvious. It was preferably than admitting that they had the enemy within them all this time and they could not see.

“You two, alone? Why not take any other men with you?” King Loras asked, still unconvinced.

“We are both strong enough, your highness” Lord Lannister replied, shrugging.

The King remained tense and silent for minutes that seemed like ages. Finally he waved his hand towards her.

“Arrest Lady Brienne” he ordered “and tie her to a post outdoors, she will remain there all morning. Let us see if you are being honest, Lord Lannister”.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that, two chapters one after the other. Of course, much shorter than before. As mentioned I lack a beta, if you want to help let me know. Have a great week.


	30. A sacrifice in the name of hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Loras suspects of Brienne. Expected and unexpected persons try to help her but she has her own plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't disappeared! So here is an update to commemorate Halloween, queer month, Latinx revolutions et al. Enjoy!

It was the only way. She just needed to be patient.

 

“It is wonderful to see how much of an abnegated daughter you are but I do wonder, my lady, what is it that you are waiting for”

 

Perhaps she needed that Jaime also learned to be patient.

 

“Just go” she whispered to the tree where he was hiding, at her command.

 

“At any moment, I tell you, at any moment, you could just free yourself, those chains… they couldn't possible restrain you. What are you playing at, my lady? Does it amuse you to torture your poor husband?”

 

Despite her efforts, she rolled her eyes. Only after very persistently telling him, he allowed her to be taken by the soldiers. She knew they could have just escaped, that was obvious. However the chance presented itself and she had to take it. In part because she wished so much to help king Loras soldiers and partly because that would be the only way to part ways from her father and allow him to keep some dignity. Even if that would mean he would then be childless. She hoped that his new mistress could give him an heir.

 

 _I couldn't have given him an heir either, not as I am now,_ she thought guiltily.

 

“My lady, I am serious, if you don't free yourself I plan to have my way with these soldiers”

 

“You won't do such a thing” she demanded.

 

“My patience is running short”

 

“My lord could just leave, I know what I am doing. And I have already given you orders”

 

“Forgive me but I have my doubts about this plan of yours” he insisted

 

The men guarding her looked tired and one of them even slightly drunk. It was still surprising to her that she could have entire conversations with Jaime without them listening because of the tone they were speaking at. Another set of men where stationed at different positions, but they were all weary. A wedding followed by a trial and condemnation had been too much for these poor men.

 

King Loras had been adamant regarding his accusations. He had always been a great soldier, however in the past he was gallant and a smile always covered his face. After King Renly died he had become taciturn and quiet but now he was completely different. A scar covered his face, it seemed he had been burned or somehow hurt. It gave him a more mature look but tragedy and other horrors had aged him as well. There was no doubt he had barely survived several encounters with the undead. Even where she was standing she could still hear King Loras, her own father and other men discuss about the horrors he had seen.

King Loras men far outpassed the forces of King Renly's brother's, Stannis Bratheon. Loras had gotten his revenge and defeated Stannis fairly. However soon he found out he had been mistaken. Stannis was not the worst of enemies. To his dismay, he even admited he was not sure anymore that Stanis had been the one who killed King Renly. Other men had been found in similar conditions as King Renly, that day he had died. No one in the Vale had survived, not even the child of the Arryns. No one was spared. The cruelty and gruesomness King Loras described was appalling.

 

Brienne was shocked, what madmand was behind all that and why couldn't they spare even a child?

 

The king continued talking that he had noticed that the attacks never occurred in daylight, and after several failed attempts they had managed to capture one of the creatures. They had tried to leave him tied to a pole, just as they where doing to Brienne but that even though they had chained him heavily, he had somehow escaped.

 

That encouraged her even more and convinced her that her idea was right, that she had to be the one to show them that particular weakness of their enemy.

 

King Renly urged his men to send several letter to the different areas of the realm, advising them all in regards to the common enemy they now shared. And particularly he asked to send one to Old Town to seek advise from the Maesters.

 

 

Brienne's father had been there when she was taken and placed in the center of the camp. Briefly, he had approached her hours ago and tried to muster some encouraging words. Yet he knew. He knew she was no longer the child he had known, she was something else, another creature that he couldn't quite understand. It pained him greatly and the few words that came out of him mouth reflected this state of mind.

 

Brienne knew he wouldn't come back, that had been their good-bye.

 

When she heard _that_ man approaching she whispered to Jaime. “Do not move” in a very serious tone.

 

“You can't force me not to”

 

“I will if I must, do not come to me” she demanded again.

 

Jaime seemed to hesitate but then stayed firm on the same branch he had been for hours.

 

Of course _that man_ would come. It was beyond his capabilities to control himself, he had to seize the opportunity to come and taunt her even in that moment. Those moments that should be her lasts.

 

Curiously, he did not even look at her. Hunt approached the soldiers and talked to them only. Soon they were discussing their many lovers and the girls that were waiting for them once the fight would be over. That seemed to calm the men. Few minutes later one of them agreed to leave and left Hunt replace him. Strangely enough, the one who he offered to replace was the sober man, not the drunk one.

 

Once the sober soldier was far away, Hunt showed his fellow soldier he had a surprise for him. He had managed to sneak a bottle of wine.

 

“I think I had my fair share of that” said the soldier, very unconvincingly

 

“This is not any wine, my friend, this wine is unique” lied Hunt

 

“Is that so?” replied the other man.

 

“Yes, this was reserved for our _happy_ couple” Hyle said then pointed with his head to Brienne's direction. “And since they are not going to need it” he raised his shoulders “I think it's only fair to say we can have it”

 

“Is it really, the one for those?”

 

“Oh yes, the King and all the commanders are so preoccupied with other business they forgot about this completely, but they won't for long. Someone might remember, shall we make use of it before they do?” and Hyle opened the wine and drank. Clearly exaggerating, even for human eyes, he made gestures indicating how good the wine was

 

The drunk soldier did not need much convincing, and he happily drank the bottle.

Soon he was asleep.

 

Hyle pushed .. several times, and when he made sure that he was asleep he looked at the other soldiers. They seemed to be absorbed in other tasks, in particular trying to find ut what the king meeting was about

 

Hyle approached Brienne and took a sword – not just any sword but Oathkeeper – out from under his cape. She had felt it, Oathkeeper's deadliness like a warm and red heat emanating constantly from the sword. Despite her previous assertiveness Brienne felt a sudden need to escape, an urge to free herself and not allow another to attack her with Oathkeeper. It would mean her demise.

 

Fear. For her own self. A feeling she had not felt for a long time.

 

Nevertheless, Brienne looked at Jaime's shadow sternly, forcing him to stay quiet. She doubted Hyle would hurt her, would he?

 

“My lady, I apologize, you might not believe in me, but it was just a game, we did not wish to harm you” said Hyle. This time, it was true. He was honestly sorry. Hyle Hunt was usually sardonic and would easilymock her and other, yet now he seemed contrite and solemn. Brienne had never seen him like that.

 

_Is this the way you want to bid farewell from me?_

 

Yet Hyle did not seemed to show any signs that he really wished to kill her

 

 

“I do not understand what has changed you but whatever it is, you are not the same” Hyle meditated while he observed her carefully, as if afraid she might try to trick him. There was awe in his stare, he was truly affected by her transformation.

 

“You have changed beyond recognition” he continued “you are even pretty now, not as Lady Margaery or Queen Sansa, but still there is something about you that draws the eye, an eerie kind of beauty. You never had the looks what could have made you become what you are now? I wondered”

 

That comment almost made her laugh. Thehe effect the undead had on the living was strong indeed. She was no beauty. Her nose was no longer broken but the paleness of her skin did not made her more attractive, quite the opposite, she looked as if she was constantly sick and her hair was still the same kind of dirty blond that before. Perhaps it was slightly shiner but that was the only difference. Her eyes were the only part of her that could be of any interest. They had become of a deeper shade of blue and while that could be seen as pretty it also increased her inhuman aspect.

 

Jaime sneaked out very quietly and stood behind a rock. “This man is too familiar, no one gave him the permission” threatened Jaime in a low voice that only Brienne could hear.

 

“Do not touch him, and leave already!” she insisted. Grunting and cursing, Jaime finally obeyed her.

 

As if he had heard, Hyle's grip on the Oathkeeper tensed. “I thought and thought but nothing came to mind until now”

 

In four steps he was right in front of her.

 

 _He is nervous and has many doubts,_ but Brienne still thought he wouldn't hurt her. Of all the weapons she had seen that Oathkeeper was special. Valyrian steel. It could be another weakness of the undead, of them.

 

“It was not my intention to hurt you, my lady. I hope one day you will forgive me”

 

The hand that held Oathkeeper rose and Hyle did the least expected thing. He placed Oathkeeper in her belt. Then he took a set of keys from a pocket and searched for the lock.

 

“Don't do it” she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear her.

 

“I won't have another chance, they are all either tired, drunk or distracted now, I will do it”

 

“Hyle” Startled he looked at her. “Leave it, just go, they will discover you”

 

“They won't” he shook his head and smiled.

 

“They will. The king will kill you” If there was something Hyle valued more than anything was his head on his shoulders. He was a survivor and he most likely would be persuaded if she reminded him of the very real threat on his life.

 

Surprisingly, he didn't listen and just kept trying to free her. It was irrational, why would Hyle want to help her? She had rejected him so many times. Was he expecting that she would go to him now? She had nothing to offer, even her father had most probably forsaken her.

 

Brienne was confused but tired, grabbing his hand both to surprise and stop him “Why are you doing this?”

 

“So… you can actually… free yourself” he stared at her and then at her hands “You are so cold. It is true then...you are not -”

 

 _Human… that is what you wanted to say, that I am not human._ Brienne thought bitterly.

 

“Why are you helping me? There is nothing you can gain, nothing I can offer you, leave” she commanded.

 

“My lady always did not always thought so low of me. There was a time you trusted me”

 

“And then you proved me wrong”

 

“I can do it again” he pushed and tried to release himself from her grip. “This time for good reasons”

 

Brienne shook her head. “The only thing you can gain by doing this is enemies. Leave”

 

“Whether you believe in me or not, I am sorry for what I did back then, I want to prove it”

“I believe you, cease to worry, as you can see, I can release myself if I so want to, please leave” she insisted with a hint of kindness that puzzled him more than her rudeness.

 

For the first time in many years, Brienne believed in Hyle. What unfathomable reason could move Hyle Hunt to help her now, that he had nothing to win from such a gesture?

 

Hyle seemed to doubt her but then he ceased to fight and retired to sit next to his fellow soldier. She could hear him muster several offensive words in utter frustration.

 

How enervating, that not only she had to deal with Jaime's impatience but now there was Hyle's too. Brienne was adamant, her decision had been made.

 

_This is the only way, only then they will all know what advantage they have, they will know the undead can't walk during daylight. Only some minutes and then it will be over._

 

A few rays of sun would soon start to become visible. Morning was slowly approaching.

 

_Soon, it will be over soon._

 

“My lady, I am afraid we are running out of time and I warn you...”

 

“Stay where you are or leave, but leave me be. I know what I am doing” she insisted very strongly. She had no time for Jaime, she had set her mind to her plan. Not even he could change her mind now.

 

Hyle looked at her once more, with sadness and fear in his eyes. She couldn't remember ever seeing him so vulnerable. Could the attraction caused by her situation, the pull their victims fell towards the undead, be so strong as to confuse him so? He had never before cared about her or any other woman. He had only cared about himself and his wishes.

 

When he looked the other way she knew it was her chance.

 

* * *

 

 

Brienne had not been the simple girl he had thought she was. Her anger when she found put about the bet was palpable. He was expecting her to use her father's influence to ruin his career but what she did was probably worst. She humiliated them all by becoming a better fighter. That girl that they expected to be a sheltered and pampered ugly girl was made of much stronger material that they had in mind. They never acknowledged her strength though.

 

When news had reached that the rich Lannister bastard was courting her they imagined he must also be behind some form of bet. Yet he remained for so long by her side Hyle started suspecting there was more to it than a simple bet. By that point he must surely had bedded her. A rich and attractive man as Jaime Lannister surely had a lot of experience in those matters. Then why stay?

 

To his surprise, the answers that occurred to him bothered him. A part of him had come to believe thought that Brienne would always be single and that one day he could go to her and ask for her hand in marriage. It was his safest idea of a wealthy life without concerns. After all, she was very ugly and no man wanted her. Why would the famous Lannister suddenly want her? He could most certainly obtain the hand – or else – of any other woman.

 

He felt robbed of his future. That had been the reason for him to approach Brienne when he saw the opportunity. Rumors had reached him and he knew her reputation to be ruined. She could be desperate. Soon he realized she was neither desperate nor docile. She had grown and turned into a confident woman. She had even managed to turn attractive. Had she been born a man no one would have doubted to call her a leader.

 

Slowly he started noticing that his feelings for her were never so simple. A part of him had wished that she wanted him. It was not just the strange and strong attraction he felt for her now. The moment she was condemned to remain tied to that post he knew she was in some sort of danger.

 

That eerie beauty that now was part of her it was just like their attackers. Those monstrous creatures that came at night were lethal but also all too attractive. All of them. And cold.

 

Whatever had become of her and however it had changed her, Hyle didn't care. He only knew one thing and that was that he didn't want her to die. Even being under the pressure she was, Brienne was still very stubborn and despite his insistence she fought against his attempts at freeing her. When he noticed she could indeed free herself he decided to trust her.

 

Yet he had been wrong.

 

She seemed very confident the last time he looked at her so he decided to observe the others and look for another chance to free her. He had none. Not long after that he heard a scream and when he looked back he saw her burning.

 

Dismayed he went to her and tried to cover her but her screams had attracted the attention of the whole camp. Other soldiers pushed him aside and didn't let him approach her. It was so sudden he could do nothing. By the time he could reach her there was nothing left but ashes.

 

The commotion had called the attention of King Loras. He looked at the ashes and nodded in satisfaction then left and with a gesture called the other lords to join him at his tent. They all obeyed immediately, to shocked to talk. Only Lord Selwyn remained for a few more minutes observing the remains of his daughter. Crestfallen he turned and also joined the king.

 

Hyle stood with other men staring at the ashes. While they talked and exchanged theories in surprise and fear he only stared.

 

Brienne's sword was not among the ashes.

 

* * *

 

 

“For a while I thought you really wanted to die, my lady” Jaime's tone was clearly full of reprimand but also had faintly amount of banter in it. They had just reached the ruins they had chosen days ago as resting place.

 

Silently and swiftly she had released herself. Jaime had seized the nearby goul they had both agreed he should catch and with Brienne's help had positioned it in her place. Jaime had managed to make the goul unconscious, the charade would have been useless otherwise. They had been fast enough and right on time to escape sunrise.

 

“I wouldn't want to leave you alone, you could get lost” Brienne teased. She did not want to talk about her father's coldness or Hyle's strange behavior. She just hoped that now they could both move on and maybe one day forgive her.

 

 

 

 


	31. Cat of the port

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya observes something curious at the port. She follows the Maester and gains a new training partner.

Laughter, curses and yells everywhere one went, it was all over the port. Everything was flooded with the smell of cockles and new linen mixed with alcohol and fruit brought from Dorne. Had she been unaware of it, she would have easily believed the land was probably free of war or danger.

It seemed all these men did not know, or preferred to ignore, that the Kingdom was no more, that the House that was supposed to rule them had probably fallen to some undead creatures no one understood much about. Not one of them seemed to care about that. And of course not one of them could know if Aunt Lyanna or Jon were alive. No news arrived regarding that at least. Some rumors regarding the monsters reached but men who believed in those were the same who believed in sea fairies, and most thought the stories were mere exaggerations or some folk tales.

Arya thought about Aunt Lyanna and Jon everyday but cried less as each day went by. She never went to Sansa to find comfort, neither did Sansa try to reach for her in that manner. Sansa kept discussing with the Maester about plans, ideas, houses of noble men she said she could trust to send messages. Maester Sam treated her with respect and offered as much help as he could. Maester Sam was a big man but also the gentlest of all maesters. Arya had never made acquaintance with a man so enthralled by books as he. Evening and morning went by and find him reading. Sansa was still the queen or at least behaved as such, with all those plans she kept talking about. Instead, Arya prefered to keep her training, keep observing and hearing so one day she might know if those monsters were nearby or if her aunt and her brother had survived.

She was hearing a merchant gossiping about the passenger of the boat that had come in the morning when she saw that man. Maester Sam had been unaware of it, but that man had been following him for days, observing him and she had the feeling that he would try and approach him that day. Whatever he wanted to do, today would be the day, Arya just knew.

Swift as cat, she moved behind a cart and quietly observed as the man smoked while pretending to be interested in buying peach from one of the sellers. Maester Sam was making his way towards his home, slowly and seemingly without a rush he was stopped by a very enthusiastic girl selling watermelon. The kind hearted Maester tried to dissuade her but she persisted until he finally bought one and then continued on his way. Other people seemed unaware but Arya had noticed how the man had taken that chance to steal something from the maester. Quietly, she followed the man as he seemed focused completely in tracing Maester Sam.

An advantage of being so small was that people tend to ignore you thought Arya. Without him perceiving it, she took what he had stolen from the Maester, a bag of coins. Then she continued behind him, searching for a chance that came in the form of a cart that passed in front of him, forcing him to take a pause in his pursuit of the Maester.

The moment the merchant went on his way the cape of the mysterious man also went with him. Enraged he started discussing with the poor man.

“It aint my fault your cape got stuck on my cart, ser” the cart man was yelling. As she suspected, people started gathering and intervening, giving their opinions regarding the issue and the not longer so curious man got quite behind Maester Sam.

Smiling to herself she returned to the house, jumping on a bag, then climbing a wall, jumping roofs and finally entering through the window.

Arya had done this several times, without being noticed. To her surprise this time Sansa and her hound where waiting for her in the girl's room. Sansa crossed her arms and looked at her reprehensibly.

“And where were you supposed to have gone now?” as years went by, Sansa looked and sounded more and more like their mother, to the point where Arya was momentarily confused. She didn't let Sansa notice it and just ignored her and went to her bed.

“Would you be so kind as to answer me, Arya?” Sansa insisted. Becoming queen had really take a toll on her. She was even more annoying now than before.

“Nowhere in particular” she said, shrugging.

“Arya… do I have to remind you that it is dangerous to go around the port, someone could recognize you” Sansa said exasperated, the hound remained still but stared at her reproachfully as well

“How would that be? I do not look like a lady, in case you haven't noticed”

It was true, she was dressed in boy's clothes given to her by the Maester. Sansa had protested but Arya had been very persisting in having those instead of lady clothes. Under no circumstances was she going to avoid practicing what her aunt and the water dance professor had taught her. If her aunt had died then she would remember her by training everyday.

Sansa remained unconvinced “Arya, you are still in danger” and here Arya had to admit that despite being bothered by it, even she could see the worry behind Sansa's anger “please, if you must go to the streets every day then at least take Lord Clegane with you.

Both the hound and Arya were surprised at this suggestion and protested in their own ways. Arya almost yelling and shaking her head and the hound by insisting in a very taciturn voice that he was there to protect the Queen not some petty girl.

“The petty girl is my sister, a Lady despite her quavering with that position, and she should also be protected” insisted Sansa.

“I do not need him” Arya complained.

“Arya..”

“I don't, no one even notices me, I don't need him” it was clear he wanted to remain by her sister's side, scary as he was it was obvious he would never harm Sansa.

“The girl looks like a small boy, there are as many boys in the port as rats, no one will notice her” insisted the hound.

“Why must you go? Can't you stay here?” Sansa tried another strategy and begged Arya.

“I have things to do”

“Why can't you do them here”

“I need to go outside”

“What is it that you must do?”

“Train” Arya finally said “my dances, it was no dance, it was Aunt Lyanna teaching me how to use the sword and it was the water master teaching me”

Shock, disgust and confusion crossed Sansa's face but she recovered faster than Arya would have expected.

“Then you can train here, with him” Sansa looked at the hound.

Again, both were surprised at the suggestion. Not only had Sansa seemingly accepted her wishes to train but also suggested a new instructor for Arya.

“Lord Clegane can fight” the hound flinched every time Sansa used the word _Lord_ , it seemed he also had issues with such titles “he can teach you”

“Your Highness, I doubt that is a good idea” the hound commented, clearly unpleased at the idea. At least in that they could agree.

Sansa straightened, as if showing both of us how tall and how much of a queen she was.

“I am afraid I will not accept your training otherwise, sister” then to the hound she said “a strong instructor would benefit my sister greatly, I must insist in asking your services, ser”.

For a brief moment Arya thought that finally the hound would snap and strike Sansa, however he nodded and looked at me “we start tomorrow morning”.

 

* * *

 

The hound was rougher than Aunt Lyanna or the water master but he was always very direct. Arya knew she couldn't become stronger than him so she used her agility instead.

 

Despite having now the chance to train with someone else, Arya kept finding time to escape and observe the port. She noticed that one man kept trying to follow maester Sam. He always created some form of diversion to trick the unaware Maester into losing either a book, or bag, and the man kept trying to steal from him. Every time Arya managed to rescue what he robbed and return it to the Maester without him noticing.

 

Until one night the man seemed to lose all his patience and confronted the Maester directly and, although hidden, Arya could see that the man had a knife. Maester Sam did not seem used to fight so he left himself be taken to an alley. The big man was not someone she knew very well but he had been kind and Arya was sure he was going to be killed by that mysterious man.

 

So Arya crept behind him but before putting and end to that man she heard him asking the Maester.

 

“Where are the girls?”

“What girls, we do not teach girls or keep them” the Maester replied with a shaking voice

“We know they are here and it seems they were seen with you at some point, where are they?”

“I do not kn-”

“Where are they?!” and the man pressed the knife to Maester Sam's neck.

 

There was no much time to think, so Arya slashed his legs and the man kneeled to the floor, dropping the knife and, before he could take it to attack her, Arya stuck him in the neck with Needle.

 

The man fell flat and made unintelligible noises while blood poured from his wounds and mouth. And then he became quiet, and more quiet until he breathed no more. Arya stared at him, paralized in the moment, vaguely aware of the Maester pulling at her and pushing her to leave the alley. She did not know how but at some point it seemed she realized she was walking next to the Maester and reaching their hiding place. Sansa's and hers hiding place.

 

Maester Sam talked to her, it seemed he was trying to thank her but at the same time trying to tell her off for wondering alone. He was babling something about the need to leave the city and he mentioned some ideas of where to go. Arya was not paying attention, could not do it. Her mind was somewhere else, it had remained in that alley with that dead man.

 

It had been the first time she had killed a man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I havent updated in years. Too much work and too little time to write but hope to give you something new soon.  
> Thanks for reading!  
> Sorry for any mistakes, as I mentioned I do not have a beta reader anymore so mistakes will be made.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always very, very, very welcomed!


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